Dust
by DarkRulerDominica
Summary: After surviving three weeks of the Reapers' Game, Neku demands that Joshua return him to the world of the living; Joshua agrees, but there's a catch to the deal…. OOC, as this is a fanfiction.
1. Saturday

Title: Dust

Author: DarkRulerDominca (); Ninja-Chi (DA).

I'm back with another tale; this tim e I'm presenting something new to my repertoire: a thriller/horror one-shot. This is based on the Square Enix DS game Subarashiki Kono Sekai/The World Ends with You.

SPOILER WARNING!: I devised this tale one summer afternoon when I was reflecting on a glaring question the game doesn't clearly explain: what happens to the physical bodies of the deceased people who entered the Reapers' Game? To play, one must be freshly dead. Surely if Sakuraba Neku was shot by Joshua in Udagawa, his body would have been found at some point by a passerby or the authorities. Thus, this story touches on that unanswered aspect. I realize that in the Secret Reports it says that the players aren't truly dead, yet during game play the characters say, indeed, that the players are dead. In my book, they are deceased; Neku was shot, the Daisukenojo siblings were hit by a car, and I'm assuming Shiki hung herself; those don't quite constitute as "not really dead" in my opinion.

This tale takes place after Neku has endured the Reapers' Game for the three week duration highlighted in the DS game. In said game, he and the others are returned to life by Joshua after defeating Kitaniji Megumi; in this tale, Neku is the last player remaining to be resurrected by Joshua following the battle. Naturally, I had to deviate from the final Hachiko reunion scene that takes place a week later in order for this tale to be successful – you'll see what I mean. I also made the characters OOC slightly.

The earthquake Joshua speaks of on page ten is the Great Kanto earthquake of September 1, 1923; it had a magnitude of between 7.9 and 8.4. It nearly destroyed Shibuya.

Joshua and Neku's official couple song, in my opinion, is Jyongri's Possession. XD Or A Lullaby for You English male version. And both work for this tale. However, by the end, you'll know the parts appropriate for each song.

I read some very sad facts about the 12 km long Shibuya River while writing this. Yes, the river is real. It turns out that the river – once known as the "shibu-iro no kawa" - used to be free-flowing and had grassy banks; the water had a naturally red cast to it due to the high levels of iron-ore (the name translates into "iron-ore-colored river"). In the 1960s the river and its tributaries were converted into a concrete culvert and drainage conduit; the reason for this was to provide space for shops. The Tokyu Department Store in Shibuya was built directly over the river, and the river disappears under the Shibuya Station (that's the entrance in the game). Rivers are considered public space in Tokyo, thus making it illegal to build over them; it isn't clear why the Shibuya River was an exception to this rule. Over the years the water has had a tendency to stagnate, and maintenance crews must flush out the old water with fresh water. By 2012 some groups in Japan are hoping to make the river "green" again.

Oh yes, I included an excerpt from the poem The Pied Piper of Hamelin by Robert Browning at the end of the story. It basically sums up this entire tale, from beginning to end. The lame boy and mayor both represent Neku, and the piper represents Joshua. You'll see the similarities when you read it.

Yes, the conversation between Neku and Joshua near the end is intentionally in single quotation marks. I wanted to convey a telepathic discussion, and using double quotation marks just looked like the words were forceful.

Okay, here is my one-shot thriller, Dust. Please read and review! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I don't own The World Ends with You.

Summary: _After surviving three weeks of the Reapers' Game, Neku demands that Joshua return him to the world of the living; Joshua agrees, but there's a catch to the deal…._

Rated R for language, dramatic elements, and shounen-ai/suggestive themes.

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18,144,000 seconds.

30,240 minutes.

504 hours.

21 days.

3 weeks.

One nightmare.

It had been that long since it all happened… since his life was turned upside-down.

Or rather, since his death began.

Three weeks before, Sakuraba Neku hadn't known what was going to happen to him that afternoon; after all, it had started off like any summer day for the Shibuya teenager: a humid, smoggy promise of blasé retentiveness, replete with that decadence only the materialistic Tokyo fashion district could provide. Another middling twenty-four hours of unremarkable subsistence, abounding with its share of idiots. He wouldn't let them into his life, Neku; he'd been burned too many times by them… experienced firsthand – and from afar – their iniquitous behavior that quickly turned him misanthropic. The broken promises… the outright lies to further their own goals… the violence. He was numb to the myriad of news headlines flashed daily upon newspaper pages that reminded him of the maddening times in which he resided: murders, robberies, hostility. Yet for as much as he recognized the stains of society, he wasn't ashamed to call himself human.

Rather, he believed he was superior to the others.

He had seen other humans as nothing but an annoyance – a necessary evil he had to contend with until his dying breath. He would drown himself in the healing beats his MP3 player and headphones supplied, both acting as barricades against the cretins with which he would rather not have to contend. He willingly allowed the music to transfer him to the comforting womb of oblivion… far away from the hustle of humankind and its inanity.

"_I don't get people. Never have, never will,"_ he would say.

There was one exception to his outwardly resolute creed:

CAT.

CAT was a street artist of unknown identity. His designs and graffiti murals decorated Shibuya like a gleaming calling card. His art shouted liberation; "Be yourself!" it conveyed. He was the only other person Neku respected. He was his only idol.

Ensconced deep in his music and pathological self-actualization loop, the teenager would lose himself in the world of CAT's artwork, sucking it all in like a thirsty sponge. Time stood still; life had meaning amongst the chaos.

That was Neku's existence: hating people and revering an anonymous artist.

But he hadn't realized the pattern would alter from course that day. One minute he was admiring CAT's works of urban art in Udagawa's back streets; the next minute he lay dead on the grimy pavement, a bullet lodged in his brain. He hadn't known who'd taken his life – didn't even grasp he was dead until a few days following the event. All he knew after inexplicably awakening in the streets of Shibuya was that he had to partake in a frantic task known as the Reapers' Game. Each session lasted a week, and each week had presented different playing partners for Neku. The twenty-one days of madness culminated in a battle Neku had thought would provide answers to the burning conundrums that haunted him concerning the Game, as well as to who murdered him. His speculations had shifted with each hour like sand in a wind-swept desert, and his list of suspects kept changing.

The battle had ended, and his questions were answered.

And the one responsible for the murder currently stood before him. Kiryu Yoshiya, the second partner. The Composer of Shibuya.

Neku's balled fists trembled as he glared at the monster before him. "Why? Why'd you do it, Joshua?" For that was the other's nickname.

Joshua smirked while twirling a lock of his ashen blonde hair. "I told you, Neku dear. I needed you as my proxy so I could take that imbecile Megumi out of the running. Are you deaf or something?"

He didn't know how to react. Kitaniji Megumi had been Joshua's right-hand man as Shibuya's Conductor; for him to speak so poorly of him was disconcerting, and only fortified Neku's assumptions that Joshua was an egoist. "But I…" his head felt terribly heavy; the three weeks had run him into the ground. "… I didn't want to be your proxy. I didn't even know you!" He looked daggers at him. "Why'd you do it?"

He gaudily sighed. "Don't flatter yourself. There's nothing clandestine behind my reasoning. You had the Imagination one needs to excel as a proficient Psych user; thereby, you were the idyllic candidate."

Neku felt sick and collapsed to the ground. He wanted to vomit… to cry. All of his suffering had been part of a petty bet between Conductor and Composer to decide whether the city of Shibuya should remain unscathed or be erased from existence. "I… want out," he blubbered.

"Oh, you've earned that by assisting me, really you have." He stepped closer to the fallen teenager. "I apologize you had to see this ugly skirmish between Megumi and me. We usually don't like involving mortals in our business, but since Shibuya was on the line we thought it best to test the chutzpa of one of its inhabitants. Or a few of them, rather," he chuckled. "Ah, you kids… so full of life."

The other rose to his full height, his eyes never leaving Joshua. "I want out," he repeated, the growl swelling in his throat.

Joshua stopped laughing at once, the capriciousness leaving his demeanor. "Neku," he started, "why do you want out? Weren't you sick of people… didn't you see them as nothing but inconveniences?"

He thought hard on the question, for he didn't want to lie to himself with an impulsive reply. "I did," he muttered to his feet. "But… after spending three weeks with the others… all that time with them… I see people do have potential."

"But dear, those three – what were their names, Shiki, Beat and Rhyme – don't constitute all mankind. The human race is an ugly one; why do you think I considered eradicating Shibuya? It's not because of the architecture or the location; it's the people."

"I know!" he shouted, and his voice echoed around the vast chamber of the Room of Reckoning in which they stood. "I know all people aren't like them," he reiterated quietly. "I thought they were worthless, but then I saw them for who they are! Maybe… maybe I can discover other people's worth!"

The Composer clapped in an unimpressed manner. "Bra-_vo_, Neku. That's the best platitude I've heard in a long while. I know! Why don't we paint each other's nails and talk about the beauty of the world and puppies!"

The other glowered at him.

"You can't dilute yourself thinking every person has inner worth," he chastised. "Sometimes what you see is what you get. Believe me, there is _plenty_ of that in Shibuya; consequently my wanting to annihilate the city." He circled Neku slowly. "These people are the scum of existence, and I won't carry around an albatross like that." He stopped behind him and rested his chin on the teenager's shoulder. "Cut your losses… that's my motto," he breathed in his ear.

Neku wrenched away from the other and his influencing words for fear of reverting to his abysmal past self. "Fuck off, Joshua! I want out – I'm not gonna say it again!"

The blonde gave a single, soft guffaw before falling entirely silent. "You've proved to be a sharp fighter, not to mention a capable right-hand man. I haven't been nearly as pleased with my previous Conductors as I have with you these short weeks."

"What? You want me to be your Conductor? Dream on!"

"Why turn down the behest?" he purred. "You possess thriving levels of Imagination that make one a prodigal Psych user. Do you realize how much power you'll be granted if you accept the job? You can assist me in cleaning up the city's riffraff." He sauntered to the other, lasciviously keeping his lavender eyes fixed on Neku's blue gaze. "And I'm not ashamed to admit this, but," he threaded his long fingers in between Neku's, "I like you. Very, very much." He brought the teen's hand to his face and kissed it.

"Cut it out!" Neku objected. He tried pulling his hand away; Joshua kept a steadfast grip on it.

"Stay with me as my Conductor and lover, Sakuraba Neku. You won't regret it."

With a mighty tug, he freed his hand from the Composer. "What the crap, Joshua? I'm not into that!"

"Oh really?" His smile dripped with lewdness.

"And I'm… I'm not being your Conductor. Sorry, find some other schlep to do it."

A grin plastered his snide face. "You're flustered. Did you like me kissing your hand?"

"Fuck off!"

"Ah, a categorical 'yes' if I've ever seen one."

"Look," Neku fumed, "even if I did like guys I sure as hell don't like you. You murdered me for one, and you're a cocky snot for two!"

He rolled his eyes with a flourish. "Details, details."

Neku wanted to punch him in the face, but he regrettably knew Joshua was the only one capable of returning him to life. "Joshua," he stated with newly-found temperance, "I want to leave the UG. Please."

He looked at him for some time; Neku thought he detected something reminiscent of pity in his demeanor. "Neku… you don't want to return to your real life."

His patience was thinning like ice in spring. "Don't tell me what I want and what I don't –"

"No, no, I mean you _don't_ want to go back to the RG."

"Stop speaking in goddamned riddles! Of course I want –"

"You _DON'T_!"

Neku involuntarily backed away from the outburst, his eyes wide.

"Listen carefully," Joshua whispered; something dark crossed his features, leaving only a shadow of his cool façade. "You've been dead for three weeks – you can't go back to your body. You belong here, in the UG."

"Why? So I can be your arm candy?"

Joshua did not laugh.

"Why can't I return? Will people freak if I rise from the dead? Is that it, an ethical thing?" Reckoning dawned in his eyes. "Wait, is it my body's condition? Have I been buried?"

"No, you haven't been buried."

"Embalmed?"

Joshua's gaze dropped to the floor; within the depths of the pupils burned something menacing. "So… you don't want to stay here with me, even though I've extended hospitality to you?" he asked almost as substantiation.

The random question elicited a response as natural as blinking. "That's right."

He looked as though struggling with something deep within himself; he at last met Neku's view with dour conduct. "Fair enough, Sakuraba Neku. I'll return you to the RG; your soul shall once again inhabit your shell." He raised a willowy finger. "However…"

_Here it comes_, Neku braced himself.

"…I'm a gambling man, so let's make this interesting for me. A little game."

Neku's stomach fluttered, for he was well aware of Joshua's idea of games. "Like what?" he asked measuredly, afraid to provoke the blonde.

"It's quite simple, really. I won't tell you the state of your body, but I'll give you three occasions to visit it." He strolled to his shadowed throne and lounged sumptuously on it. "If after the first two visits you discover your body's condition, I'll give you the option of remaining in either it or the UG permanently." A platinum goblet encrusted with rubies materialized in his hand, and he sipped the contents. "I won't influence your pick. You have to make your own choice." He smiled widely, and the infamous expression sent a chill racing down Neku's spinal cord. "Whatever your pick, it must be something you're willing to live with for a long time."

A warning bell blared in the teen's head. "Why are you giving me three chances? I'll know the first time if I want to stay or not."

He waved his free hand glibly. "Provisions for a game; three is such a nice number. Also, it makes it interesting for both parties. You and me, that is."

Something wasn't right. "You're hedging," Neku responded flatly.

Joshua scowled at him. "It's befitting though, is it not? You declined my offer, which I deem no less than a slap in the face; I don't take too kindly to ingratitude." He tipped his head back and drained the cup. "Just see it as my personal payback, bitch."

The other's aggression dredged his agitation. "What's wrong with my body?" he pressed.

He clicked his tongue. "Uh-uh! I said I wouldn't tell. Are you trying to get me to cheat so you win by default?"

Neku mulled over the Composer's conditions. "What if I can't figure out my body's state? Will I have the option of staying in the UG?"

"Certainly! I just figured it'd be easier for you to decide if you knew your corpse's condition."

He was aware of grinding his jaw as he stared at the other. Joshua knew something, yet he expected Neku to decipher it in a twisted game of chance. "So if I realize – whatever choice I make – that I made a mistake, I have to stay in that specific world?"

Joshua's goblet refilled itself, the liquid spilling over the brim. "My, you're a quick learner! Armed with that nugget of knowledge, I don't have to tell you that you mustn't make any rash decisions." He waved his hand and a matching drinking vessel materialized before Neku, suspended in the air. "Not to be biased, but a millennia with me wouldn't be too bad. Drink?"

Neku knocked it across the chamber; the metallic crash rang sharply.

Joshua behaved as serenely as though he hadn't witnessed the outburst. "Do you accept my offer of this game? Three visits to your body. You can return to the UG the first two times, but that's it; after your second visit you're stuck in the RG, and I will no longer aid you. Conversely, if you renounce the RG, you have to fulfill your role as my Conductor and lover straight away." Still reclined on the throne, he proffered his hand to the other, his lips stretching into a cat-like smile. "Make this pact and it begins."

Neku looked at the other's hand with hesitation. Too easy, he thought. Joshua wasn't one to let someone go so readily who rejected his advances, or so Neku suspected. The blonde savored toying with people, especially those who stood in the way of his aspirations. Twice Minamimoto Sho sampled Joshua's vengeance: Udagawa was the first occurrence, when the Composer deflected Pi Face's bullets like a spoiled child playing a droll game; the Trail of the Bygone was the next and final. Neku would never forget the sight of the rogue reaper, his body smashed under the tonnage of scrap metal and twisted cars….

"Hel-lo? Are you there?" Joshua simpered.

Resolve boiled inside Neku, and he looked at the other defiantly. "All right, I accept your terms." He crossed the chamber and gripped Joshua's hand firmly. "Now return me to the RG!"

A callous smile twisted his lips. "It's done."

In a blink, Neku experienced the sensation of falling backwards rapidly, and before he could tell what was occurring he was in a pitch-black space. He waited for light to appear in the stale atmosphere, waited for some type of sense to emerge from the paradox that would clarify him of his current location. No illumination graced his eyes; no sounds met his ears. "What the fuck?" he cursed. "Joshua! Bring me back to the UG!" he screamed in the cloaking darkness.

A second later he stood in the entrance of WildKat Café, Hanekoma Sanae's coffee shop that was situated on Shibuya's Cat Street. The aroma of roasted coffee beans and pastries filled his nose as he breathed heavily in exasperation. "Where are you?"

"Over here!" Joshua was sitting at a table in the corner, beckoning him over.

He threaded his way around the occupied tables in a driven dash to the Composer. "What the shit was that all about? You said I wasn't buried!"

He sipped his beverage nonchalantly. "Dear me, you used your first pass back rather quickly. Are you sure that's wise?" He drank the contents in the paper cup with gusto. "Mmmm, Sanae makes the best lattes this side of Tokyo. You should try some –"

"Answer me, dick!"

He eyed the other with reprimand. "Such a mouth you have. I'm surprised your parents didn't scold you more often." He dabbed his lips with his napkin before neatly refolding it and smoothing it across his lap. "You aren't buried, dear."

"Liar!"

The closest patrons shot Neku disapproving looks owing to the outcry.

Joshua's eyebrows arched upward in scandal. "You're insinuating I'm lying? Why?"

He slammed his fist on the table's smooth surface. "You know damn well why! I'm buried!"

He nibbled a buttery cookie. "And you say this because…?"

Neku channeled his fury by popping his own neck, for he was a breath away from strangling Joshua's. "It was dark! I didn't hear anything! I'm no genius, but that sounds like I'm in a coffin!" At once the people closest to him scooted their chairs further away, doing nothing to screen their apprehension.

"Indeed, you are not a genius. You're a spoiled adolescent residing in a spoiled metropolis who thinks he's master of the world." He put the latte to his lips and slurped. "In reality you're a trite carbon copy of everyone else, save for your high levels of Imagination."

Neku was inclined to hit him, yet he feared the ramifications of striking Shibuya's ruler. "I'm not a carbon copy," he paced his words to keep his rage from escalating.

"So then, you preach your individualism from the masses... that you follow your own path, yes?"

"I do!" he snarled defensively, foreseeing an imminent dispute.

"Ah, do you now? How many other people in this city – no, in this world – proclaim they aren't sheep? The said masses express themselves with styles that have been labeled into genres; such can be said for the garbs you're wearing." He ticked off a finger. "That's one way they're like everyone else. They listen to music that already has a fan base, so nothing original about that; that's two." A sarcastic grin split his lips. "Many of them idolize the artist CAT. Tell me: how can one person claim uniqueness when someone right next to them follows the same creed and enjoys the same thing?" He glanced to his left and smiled. "Ah, Sanae, we were just talking about you!"

The shop's owner and only employee, Hanekoma, walked over, his appearance as unkempt as ever. "Hey Phones, how you doing?" he greeted Neku. His eyes shifted to Joshua as he scratched his stubbly chin. "Does he know…?"

"Yes, I told him about me being Composer." He addressed Neku once more. "Hanekoma's also my Producer, my original right-hand-man. Or angel, whichever you prefer."

"Yeah, sorry I didn't tell you, but I was bound by rules. You understand, right? No hard feelings?"

Neku, who'd discovered Hanekoma was CAT, had believed for a short time that he was the Composer. Knowledge of the true Composer's identity redeemed CAT's credibility in the redhead's eyes, but now that Joshua revealed the rumpled man was, indeed, his accomplice, Neku was skeptical about him. His head fogged with a splitting headache. "Get me something. Anything, Mr. H."

"Sure Phones. One house specialty coming up," and he lumbered away back to the bar.

Joshua beamed at his back. "Oh, I love him to death. He's like the yin to my yang, helping me with so much… like keeping me in line," he chuckled as he twisted a curl of his hair in embarrassment. "But getting back to Hanekoma's followers… there's no shortage of them, so neither you nor they are unique." He slurped more coffee. "Besides, his street art's popularity isn't a mistake."

"Damn right – they're masterpieces because he's a wizard!"

"How romantic a notion. No, it's more technical than that."

Neku's ears twitched. "Yeah?"

"CAT's works aren't so much free forms of artistic expression; they're embedded with command codes."

"Command codes?" The sound of a grinder whirred to life at the bar.

"Subliminal messages. The most effective ones too, devised by angels. They're totally undetectable to humans on a conscious level."

He shook his head in denial. "No way. Subliminal messages are only used by corrupt media and corporations; CAT would never use them!"

"But he does. The two codes are simple: 'Enjoy the Moment More' and 'Gather'. The first phrase strengthens the Imagination – Imagination is needed to guarantee the creation of a future. The 'Gather' command draws people with the strong Imagination to Shibuya. To that end, Shibuya's future may be bright if hordes of imaginative citizens are milling about, unlike rotting in its cesspool at present." He spread his hands wide. "Think of it as mass imprinting. Remember how you planted phrases and ideas in people's brains during the Reaper's Game? Well, this is on a wider scale."

It made terrible sense to Neku. "But you wanted to destroy Shibuya. Why would you let Mr. H write the messages to try saving the city?"

He rolled his eyes. "He wanted to see if he could do something first before I annihilated the place, so I permitted it. I didn't think it would work, to tell the truth, but it seems there's an influx of shining rays of hope amongst the filth." He ate another cookie. "Even so, Shibuya's not off the hook yet. If I see so much as it slipping back into slum I'll make sure it not only disappears, but no one ever remembers it."

Hanekoma came over with a tall, steaming cup. "Hey Boss, that's not a nice thing to say. I work hard extracting people's goodness, but you go and make it all for naught."

"Aw, you know I hate this city, though! It's been a thorn in my side forever. Why do you think I tried wiping it out with that earthquake eighty-four years ago?"

"Just give it another chance." He placed the beverage before Neku. "On the house. Drink it while it's hot."

Joshua frowned in a pout. "You're not making matters better, you know? Rub my neck – it hurts!"

"I'm working," Hanekoma stated flatly. "Do it yourself." He walked away and retrieved empty glasses from a table.

Joshua sighed deeply and turned his attention to Neku once again. "See? He keeps me out of trouble."

"He's not doing a very good job," Neku grumbled. He at last sat in a chair opposite Joshua and took a cursory sip of the coffee; it was sweet and topped with fresh whipped cream.

"You were especially obedient concerning the 'Gather' message," Joshua said, reviving the earlier topic. "Not only did you spend most of your time in Shibuya, you actually hung around the tag murals. That day I shot you… it was no coincidence you were admiring his work."

The coffee suddenly seemed less sweet. "You knew I'd be there?"

"Not at that mural specifically, but I was aware you'd be at one of them. Throughout Shibuya there are approximately three hundred-twenty one CAT artworks. I lead the garbage man Minamimoto on a chase around the city, making sure to pass each painting until I found you."

His neck prickled with abhorrence. "Bastard."

"Hey, at least you died looking at your favorite artist's works. Or your programmed favorite artist. Human minds are very malleable."

His grand suppositions of CAT were quickly becoming delusions. "Why don't you make Hanekoma your Conductor? He's a good crony."

"I strongly suggest you not insult Sanae in front of me," he softly warned before touching the cup to his lips.

Neku regretted his brazenness right away, understanding he'd toed the invisible line reserved exclusively for Composer and Producer. "Sorry."

He waved his hand dismissively in acknowledgement. "He's too lazy. I've proposed him being Conductor over and over, but he says, 'I'm not into that sort of work, Josh. I just want to run my coffee shop and stay sane'." He stirred his drink with a spoon. "C'est la vie, his hands are tied being Producer, and I respect his wishes." He pushed his cookie plate to the side. "Nevertheless, even if he did become Conductor, it wouldn't change the fact that I want you as my conquest."

He eyed him poisonously. "Blow me."

"Oh, I intend to," he tittered before licking his stirring spoon.

Neku downed his coffee in antipathy.

Joshua replaced the spoon on the table. "Silly me, I've gotten cream on my lips. Want to help lick it off?"

"Fuck you, priss."

He giggled and wiped the cream off his lips with his long finger before lightly licking it, his eyes boring into Neku's as his tongue flicked his fingertip; Neku averted his gaze quickly, cursing the flush developing on his face.

"Your bashfulness is adorable," the Composer smiled before finishing his beverage. "Is it any wonder I pursue you?"

"I wanna go back," Neku muttered without looking at him.

A look of disgust abruptly befell his fair features. "To the RG? You can't be serious."

"I am! I don't want to stay here in the UG, especially with your flirting."

He rolled the empty cup in his hand. "Do you hate me so much that you're willing to risk everything? Solely to avoid me?"

The answer was automatic. "Damn right. Not only did you kill me, you didn't tell me you were Composer and you toyed with my soul! Plus," he peered at the other with reprehension, "you're an annoying prick."

Joshua narrowed his violet eyes on him, his smile perfectly gracing his mouth. "Let me share a little something I've learned over the millennia, sweetheart: nostalgia is a dangerous thing. It roots people in the past and has a tendency to warp the mind of the one experiencing it –"

"What's that mea–"

He raised a hand calmly to halt the other's interruption. "Someone could've partaken in a mediocre incident, but nostalgia – in its inexhaustible desire to thrive – will make the memories nicer, cleaner. It lets the person forget the flaws and replaces them with a sanitized version. Nonetheless, like a person crazed with thirst in a desert who only finds mirages, this leads nostalgia to cloud additional memories in turn." He ate the last cookie and wiped the tiny crumbs from his lips. "That's why I say it's dangerous. It leaves people with a sense of helplessness because they believe nothing can ever compare to that trumped up, bygone event. I impart this because you, who used to belittle life, now proclaim it great, and you pardon particulars that you unequivocally hated. Hypocrisy if I've ever seen it."

"I'm not being a hypocrite," he countered ardently. "I'm appreciating what I used to take advantage of."

He austerely shook his head. "It's hindsight, a nasty cousin of nostalgia. Alas, hindsight is not always 20/20, as they claim. Trust me; I've seen this countless times when people are feeling vulnerable. The lazy worker who temporarily doubles their output when facing the threat of being fired, the abusive spouse who promises reformed behavior because the other is going to leave… the rebellious teenager who thinks life is the greatest only once he's dead. And the irony is, humans _always_ revert to their fundamental routines because the schema has been established. Do you know what schema is, Neku?"

He hazily recalled seeing the term in a book, but could not formulate a definition on cue. "No."

"Schema is the psychological term for set notions about oneself and others, either gained through experience or assumption. You hating people is a schema." He pointed to a group of businesspeople purchasing coffee from Sanae at the counter. "Quick, where do you think they're going after they leave here?"

Neku shrugged. "I dunno. Work maybe?"

"Why do you assume that?"

He rolled his eyes. "Look at their clothes and briefcases. I don't see where this is going."

He pursed his lips. "Evidently you don't, which is why I'm educating you now. You presumed they'll return to work based on appearance; how can you prove it, though? Perhaps they just dress like that. Maybe they're leaving for home. Regardless, your schema led you to think that."

He looked at him as though he were crazy. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Schemata can be re-learned over time, but it takes a while, which is why I find it nigh-near impossible that you're suddenly rehabilitated and love people oh-so-much."

Neku scoffed. "Think what you will. I know I'll still be grateful when I inhabit the RG again."

He looked unconvinced.

"I will! Well, once I figure out where I am," he added quietly before shooting a poisonous look at Joshua.

He sighed. "Are you requesting passage back to the RG then?"

He nodded.

"Allow me to indulge you in that case," and in that instant he, and everything, disappeared from Neku's view.

Again, he was in the black space, now armed with a lucid head and forewarning. "Joshua said I'm not buried," he muttered, trying to construe the situation. Prudently, he stretched his hands above him; there was no impeding coffin lid.

He waited in the ubiquitous silence for his eyes to adjust, but the place was devoid of light as though impenetrably sealed from the outside. He opened his eyes as wide as possible; nothing helped.

With arms outstretched like a blind man, he took a perfunctory step forward. "It's not a morgue, either," he concluded while trudging to an unidentified destination. His feet sunk into the yielding surface with each step; it felt like crumbling earth or sand. Suspicious, he retrieved his cell phone to illuminate the ground, but the device failed to power on. "Dead," he muttered. Returning the phone to his pocket, he opted to gather information about his surroundings on senses other than sight. He bent down and scooped up a handful of the silty ground. As soon as his hand wrapped around the contents they began spilling through his fingers. "Is it sand?" Cautiously, he brought it close to his nose and sniffed; the smell was most peculiar: a trace of carbon and faint incense. The fine particulates invaded his nostrils and he sneezed.

Wiping his nose, he mulled over this discovery. "It's too fine to be sand." He stopped. "Dust?" He gazed out at nothingness before taking another step into more powder. "It's dust. What the fuck, Joshua?" he breathed.

Fingers sweeping the air before him, he broke into a clumsy lurching due to the shifting soil beneath him and being blind in the pitch. This was his last free pass to the RG – he had to interpret the conundrum regarding his whereabouts. He ground his jaw, feeling like an idiot for returning to the UG so hastily the first time before he'd made a real breakthrough. Now at least he could be logical.

His hand made contact with something solid: a concave, metal wall. His fingers slid over it, feeling for a door or light switch.

Nothing.

He knocked on the cool surface; it sounded thick – half a meter, maybe. He felt no breeze in the chamber, signifying a lack of an entrance or exit.

He became aware of his breath quickening; he was scared. Nothing had meaning in the inexplicable surroundings that held him, but if he intended to remain in the RG he had to comprehend it. "Why is that little cocksucker doing this to me?" he hissed, and he was shocked to find tears on his cheeks. "I need to stay in the RG. This is where I belong!" Although he'd died, Neku knew he could return, for Joshua had twice reunited his soul and body; he'd done the same for Shiki, Beat and Rhyme after they'd defeated the ex-Conductor Megumi, too. Neku's lifeless form hadn't suffered putrefaction at all during that time, so the Composer's hesitation to return him made the teenager uneasy. "He's not telling me something. What, damn it?" he roared to the sky; his voice echoed all around him. He listened carefully until the echo died. "The wall surrounds me," he established from the reverberation.

Every possibility that entered his mind was tossed out for the next – and hopefully more logical – finding, but nothing spawned a fruitful answer. He sat down and the next moment laughed resentfully. "He wants me to stay in the UG and be his sex toy... that's why he's not telling me anything."

His hand brushed against the dust; his fingertips kept running across larger particulates, but without light he had no means to examine them. "Why is my phone dead?" He knew why, but his question was rhetorical: it'd been switched on since his murder in the alley three weeks prior, ensuring a drained battery. He'd been so used to its continuous charge in the UG that he'd forgotten about the hassle of a dead cell. He wanted to examine the dust with his eyes… see what the place that contained him looked like.

He shoved his hand down into the ground; it gave way with little resistance and sunk far beyond his limb's reach. "There's no solid earth… just dust." Extracting his arm, he absentmindedly rubbed the granules between his index finger and thumb, and he hated himself for what he did next. "Joshua, bring me back."

Dazzling sun blinded him the next moment. He shielded his eyes from the sensory assault, but not before recognizing his surroundings as that of Shibuya. Blinking, he saw the entrance to Shibu Department Store directly in front of him. Crowds of people swarmed through his vaporous body, their voices blending into a grating drone. He darted through the shopping center's glass doors to not only escape the disarray, but to locate the Composer.

Right away the humid madness gave way to air-conditioned respite. Aware that the Shibu Department Store was one of the places in which the players could interact with the living, Neku refrained from yelling so as not to disturb anyone.

He jogged past various shop fronts in search of Joshua, and he hadn't looked long when he caught sight of him in the ultra-swank establishment of Pegaso Atelier, trying on a sharp black suit and white shirt. "Yes, I like this very much," Neku heard him say to a man with blonde hair combed severely back from his forehead. "Just put it on my tab, Yoshii-kun."

"Very good, Kiryu-san," the man complied.

Neku barged into the shop, sweaty and out of breath; the strains of soft piano tickled his ears. "Tell me what's going on, Joshua. Right now!"

Yoshii glared icily at Neku. "May I help you?" In the next second he recognized Neku from the times he'd made costly purchases during the Reaper's Game, and he went sheet white. "Oh, how rude of me! A thousand pardons, sir."

Joshua took off the suit coat and tossed it to him. "He forgives you. Now please wrap this for me." He extracted a crisp 10,000¥ bill from his wallet and put it in the attendant's hand. "Here, buy yourself a nice dinner tonight. Or two." He placed another bill on top of the other.

Yoshii strove to maintain him composure. "Yes, yes, I'll wrap this right away, Kiryu-san," and he left the two to themselves.

"I bet those weren't even real," Neku muttered as he watched Yoshii assemble a wrapping box at the front counter.

"Oh no, they were real. I can create anything I desire." He straightened his tie in the mirror reflection. "Is your detective game proving fruitful?"

"Piss off. Yeah, it's fruitful. It's showing me you're a raging psycho."

He frowned with pouty lips. "That's mean to say. Here." He gruffly shoved a shirt on a hanger against his chest. "Hold this." He unbuttoned his current shirt and slipped it off his lean torso.

Neku stood for a moment, at a loss for words due to the Composer's gall. "Yeah right, I'm not your slave!" He tossed the garment to the ground in rebellion.

Joshua casually hung up the shirt he'd stripped from his body. "I advise you pick that up." His head snapped in Neku's direction. "Now."

Neku staggered; something dangerous glistened in Joshua's eyes he'd never seen prior. The Composer stared angrily at him, his pupils fixed and constricted inside darkening irises. "Yoshii-kun works hard to keep the shirts smooth." His voice warped to something fierce and unearthly, and the atmosphere itself became heavy with suffocating oppressiveness. "Pick it up, Sakuraba Neku."

He nodded, and without a word retrieved the shirt.

A smile crinkled his nose. "Thanks, hun," he simpered in his regular voice; the air and his eyes regressed to normal. "Customers can't appreciate how hard the sales people strive to keep the merchandise presentable. It's bad enough when everyone's trying them on." He glanced over at Neku, who was atypically quiet. He stroked a finger up his bare top and grinned lecherously at the other. "Does this turn you on?"

Neku, still shaken by what he'd just witnessed, said nothing. What the hell was Joshua anyway?

"You're transfixed by my perfect body, I see." He chuckled and put on a new shirt, buttoning up the row of small glass buttons. "So why am I a raging psycho, to quote your words?"

Neku understood the invitation to talk. "Because… you're not telling me where I am in the RG. You know… you know where I am." His arms quavered, and he felt the telltale signs of impending tears. _'Oh God, no, don't let me cry in front of him.'_

"Well of course I know where you are, silly!"

"Then why don't you tell me?" His eyes stung underneath the rims.

Joshua perused a pair of neckties against the shirt. "In case you haven't noticed, I love games. Reaper's Game, Tin Pin, manipulation of lives, it's all sport to me. Why passively divulge your current state when I can give it a twist? It entertains me and lets you sort out your priorities. Lilac or scarlet?"

Neku looked over and saw he was indicating the two ties. "Uh… lilac, I guess. But what do you mean, 'sort out my priorities'? Of course I want to live in the RG again!"

"Hmmm, do you, now?" He returned the scarlet tie to the cherry wood shelf behind him. "You want to go back to monotony? The place you felt dead inside when you weren't looking at Hanekoma's artwork?"

"Y-yeah," he stammered, unsure why he said it.

Joshua shook his head. "That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard, pardon my language. You hate people and you know it. Even after you knew you were dead you still hated your partners. So why do you want to revert to boring life with boring people?" He frowned in the mirror upon closer inspection of the shirt. "On second thought, I don't like this as much as the first…." His sylphlike fingers went to work unfastening the buttons.

Dutifully, Neku accepted the discarded shirt, still warm from Joshua's skin, before giving him the one he'd thrown on the ground moments earlier. "Playing the Game opened my eyes to what I had and what I could lose, so yes, I wanna go back. And," he licked his lips, "I've sorted out my priorities. Life isn't so bad… like Hanekoma said."

Joshua chortled lightly while buttoning the shirt. "My boy, I wasn't speaking of your former life when I mentioned priorities; I meant you should really look at the UG and see how good you have it here."

"How good I have…". He faltered before erupting into rage. "Listen to me!" he snarled, the shirt clutched tightly in his hand. "This place is crap! I belong in –"

"You belong in the UG," Joshua idly stated. "You died, Neku – I shot you pointblank in the forehead for the sole purpose of making you my proxy. The prize on the line was Shibuya and the bordering outskirts of the Minato, Meguro, Shinjuku, Setagawa and Suginami wards. You enacted your part satisfactorily, and I spared the city owing to feeling generous. Your sacrifice saved millions." He turned away from the full-length mirror towards Neku. "You are the scapegoat… the wanton calf… the sacrificial lamb. Your initiation into the Game preserved natural balance, and you're a savior to unseen forces of the universe." He slid the knot of the lilac tie up to his throat. "You have the aptitude for the Conductor job, believe it or not. Megumi couldn't even use Psychs."

The name prompted a spontaneous question from Neku. "You say I'm so ideal for the role, but what if you get tired of me? How do I know you won't do me in like you did to Shades?"

"Rest assured, I won't tire of you. Megumi contradicted nearly every rule I imposed, which quickly became intolerable."

"And what's to stop me from opposing your rules?"

"I won't see it as insubordination; just feistiness," he purled.

Neku glared at him.

"Anyway, he wasn't my romantic partner. I tend to be more… lenient with those."

He worked his jaw. "You've had other lovers before?"

"Oh yes! I've been around for millennia – of course I've had lovers. Never a human, though."

Neku looked away, baffled why he experienced a wave of relief washing over him after Joshua divulged he'd never had a relationship with a human.

"We can live in the Higher Plane together; it's the realm I'm from, much better than this grimy city or the UG. We'll visit here regularly to make sure everything's in working order. And don't worry, I can modify your vibe frequency so you can cross the thresholds separating dimensions."

"No… I belong in the RG. Shiki, Beat and Rhyme died but they got their lives back!"

Neku saw him pause fractionally as he admired his reflection, and a faraway look dulled the usually sharp eyes. "Did they now? You saw this with your own eyes?"

A harrowing realization, at first as subtle as a ripple in a lake's surface, struck him as sharply as when the GM Higashizawa Yōdai revealed that he and Shiki were dead. Neku merely saw the other players vanish after the battle with Shades; he'd no real comprehension of their present whereabouts. "Where… are they?"

"Silly, they're in the RG!"

He couldn't handle it; Joshua was an enigma in a sliding puzzle box, and Neku felt his defenses crumbling from mental fatigue. "Stop talking in riddles." He lowered his head, his eyes barely visible behind his bangs. "If you tell me where my body is, I can decide sensibly if I want to stay here. And if I stay, I'll… I'll be your lover. I won't resist."

Joshua bit his fingertip. "Ooo, the offer is so tempting! Alas, I cannot acquiesce to such rash proposals; I only want you staying here if you really desire it."

Neku's fear came to light even before Joshua completed the sentence: he collapsed to the ground and started crying.

The Composer's haughty expression galvanized into shock before softening. "Oh, please don't cry." He went over and cradled him in his arms with the loving touch of a parent. "There, there."

It was the first time the redhead had actually felt Joshua's skin other than the hand contact of making a pact. It had comforting warmness to it, and the sensation soothed him. "Tell me where I am, please! It's so dark in there."

Yoshii came over. "Is everything all right? May I be of assistance?"

"Yes, would you bring a box of tissues over? Thanks so much." Joshua rocked Neku back and forth delicately, stroking his hair with tender fingers. "I'm sorry, Neku… but I can't." Pain grated his voice, and it was one of the few times Neku felt sincerity from the Composer as opposed to conceited and chiding conduct. "I'm sorry."

He trembled from the sobs. "You're Composer, right? How hard is it for you to tell me what I want to know?"

Joshua respired a forlorn sigh. "It's extremely hard. It's not that I can't… I won't. I'm not here to influence people's – you or Shibuya's inhabitants' – choices. Whatever the answer, it mustn't be arbitrary. I will not tolerate anyone settling because that precise decision appears easiest." He peered deeply into Neku's tired eyes. "It must be your volition… not mine."

He succumbed to his exhaustion and rested his forehead on the other's clavicle. "But you're forcing me in essence. You're intimidating me by withholding my body's location."

The rocking faltered when he heard Neku's remark. "I like to see it as gentle coercing. You believe something's wrong with your cadaver. I'm not saying there is, and I'm not denying there isn't; regardless, you've formulated that something is awry, and I hope it's armed you with insight for when you make your final pronouncement to me. Remember this, though: even if you claw and tear to regain it, the past is gone."

Yoshii returned with the tissues; Joshua took the box and wiped Neku's cheek. "You have to look inside yourself and make a judgment. No external influences either… this has to come from within."

Neku sniffled. "I'm so tired… I might make the wrong choice."

"No choice is wrong, Neku. Each one leads to a different branch in life's path."

He gripped the other's shirt tightly, feeling as though he was drowning in rage. "I hate you."

Joshua stiffened. "Don't say that."

"But you put me through all of this. I never did anything to you!" he whispered in a strained voice.

"I know you didn't, dear. Trust me, this is for your own good. C'mon, no sad faces now." He stood and guided the other up with him. "Feel a bit better?"

He wiped his eyes with a tissue. "I can't believe you drove me to tears, bastard."

"Still feisty, aren't we?" Joshua laughed. He touched Neku's face. "I may seem insensitive, but I don't like seeing you cry. Remember that."

He twisted away. "Damn queer."

Joshua mildly simpered. "Go out and enjoy yourself. You can tell me your final decision in a week. I won't rush you."

He sniffled. "No hand timer then?"

"No hand timer."

The announcement of this liberation ignited a rehabilitated boldness in Neku. Tossing the tissue to the ground, he strode from the shop as quickly as his legs would allow.

"Neku!"

Just as he slipped out the door he heard the other say his name. He poked his head back in the shop. "What is it?" he snapped.

"Don't give me a reason to keep it."

His eyes narrowed at the indistinguishable request.

"Don't give me a reason to keep it," he repeated. "I'm only getting it if you show up."

He responded to the ambiguity by flipping him off with both middle fingers. He stormed away, certain he'd suffer a massive stroke right there in Shibu Department Store; that was all he needed… to have a crowd gawking at his prone form with Joshua laughing all the while on the throng's edge. He wiped his stinging eyes; never before had someone educed tears from him. Joshua was as horrible as ever, and Neku came to terms with the somber conclusion that he would never extract an answer pertaining to his body. "Maybe if I sleep with him he'll tell me," he laughed quietly, the image of the blonde's shirtless torso fresh in his mind's eye.

xxxxxxxxxxx


	2. Sunday

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

For hours he wandered the grimy streets, wanting an answer to fall into his grasp with regards to what he should do. Since his soul was in the UG dimension, he could roam the city unobserved by the living. Random Noises skittered through the boulevards, their invisible presence causing anxiety in nearby humans. Neku saw no motive to fight the entities, for his bout with the Reaper's Game was over, and his survival was no longer on the line.

Being around life made him nostalgic. Families, singles, young and old, intertwined to make up the fabric of the thriving city that, hours before, had been on the verge of extinction. He saw so many individuals pass him by, but now that he'd been deprived of life, he considered each stranger a beautiful wonderment as opposed to a mindless drone. The billboards, projection screens, buildings, cars, pollution, trash, people, voices… they were all components of Shibuya. He understood… the city's beauty wasn't found in one or two things, but in the whole. _'Lose a part, and the entire mechanism suffers'_, he pondered. He leaned against a building and gazed up at the cloudless sky. How foolish he was to realize it only then.

The sun continued its graceful arc across the sky, ultimately ushering in twilight. Unlike the instances in the Reaper's Game when the players would begin a new day right after they'd completed their tedium, the hours now obeyed the laws of physics, and he experienced his sleep-wake cycle. He walked into a hotel, making certain no one could see him, and helped himself to a room. "It's not like they'll have to make the bed after I leave," he mused, noting the perfectly smooth sheets underneath him as he lay on the mattress. He sighed, unable to make a solitary crease on the cover. "Being dead sucks."

Not for the first time that night he contemplated visiting his house, but like before, he rejected the idea. "I don't wanna see how my parents are; they're probably freaking out." An ache rent his heart in knowing he couldn't comfort them, and he knew he'd all but break down if he saw them like that.

All night he tossed and turned in the bed. He had recurring nightmares, ranging from trying to escape a rabid Noise, being stuck in the black chamber in which his body was currently, and serving Joshua as a carnal plaything. At one point he thought he saw Joshua sitting on the foot of the bed watching him, but after he rubbed his eyes he saw no one.

He awoke the next morning to the radio alarm blaring to life. "Son of a bitch," he grumbled. After a few failed attempts to hit the snooze button Neku concentrated his efforts on making physical contact with the RG-based radio, and he succeeded in quieting it with a mighty slam. "Why don't people unset these before checking out?" he grumbled. He looked at the digital display: 11:00 AM. "I must've been tired." And he knew, indeed, that his exhaustion was warranted.

He passed through the hectic Scramble Crossing one hour later before arriving at Hachiko, the city's bronze dog landmark. He sat on one of the low walls framing the statue, exhaling away his stress. He looked up at the worn surface of the akita-inu likeness, remembering all he'd experienced there during the Game. He'd met both Shiki and Joshua in front of the statue; Shiki had shared with him that Hachiko was a meeting point in the metropolis, for both the living and players. Out of curiosity, he glanced around in search of his partners, but nothing met his eyes; most of the visitors busily snapped photos of the statue or of their friends posing before it.

He wondered fleetingly what Beat, Rhyme and Shiki were doing at that moment, and he furtively wished he would see them converge there. He watched the tree leaves quiver in the summer wind, the sound rushing around him like a trailing ribbon. "They might've been here earlier," he speculated.

A few Frog Noises leapt around him, which he easily shooed away with his foot. The Noise infestation had dwindled greatly since his involvement in the Game, but he certainly didn't feel the effects. A dreary cloud hung over him with the prospect of either discovering a terrible secret in regards to his cadaver or becoming Joshua's partner, both business-wise and romantically.

He thought of the two scenarios that faced him as clarion as a sunrise. Whenever he considered his body, a sickening pit caved his stomach. He knew Joshua was withholding something diabolical; furthermore, the dark chamber chilled Neku to his soul, and he felt that even if the room was simply a temporary place in which his corpse remained, it would haunt his dreams for years to come.

And then there was the alternative. Neku had never dedicated much thought regarding his sexual orientation, as he earnestly avoided people. Yet even if he found out that, indeed, he was bisexual or homosexual, Joshua was not his first pick. From the moment he saw him, Neku despised him. The blonde's supercilious air did not couple well with his ever-present smirks and condescending tongue. He'd made an effort to insult Neku as frequently as possible, the redhead believed; and when he hadn't been affronting him, Neku would catch him stealing glances at his ass. More than once he thought he'd suffer an aneurism contending with the being.

He stretched out on the wall, gazing up at the polluted sky and the flocks of pigeons that flew through it. If worst came to worst, he _supposed_ he could tolerate being with Joshua. He had a nice face that somewhat looked like a girl's, a good body, knowledge and definite power – both supernatural and influential – throughout Shibuya. But his thoughts braked before they'd gained proper momentum for, yet again, he recalled the other's responsibility for his meaningless death. Joshua was something dangerous; and omnipotent and egocentric being that held a city's future in his hands. Neku knew the other was a loose cannon, and keeping his distance was most wise.

A flapping of wings overhead caught his attention. It was a Raven Noise, consisting more of harsh lines of energy rather than feathers. The sight prompted his recollection of the conspicuous amount of Noise he'd seen that day. Now that he thought about it, shouldn't the creatures have vanished by default after the Game's close? "Leftovers," he grumbled to himself. They were more than likely the few lingering Noise from the Game, and their numbers would soon dwindle.

He swung by Ramen Don and ordered a bowl of shio ramen. The flavor wasn't as appetizing as usual, but he suspected it had to do with his preoccupation of worries rather than the owner's cooking ability. He sat in the booth, swirling the noodles in his bowl and smelling the slightly greasy air. How long could he evade Joshua and simply drift around the city in this _laissez faire_ manner? Eventually the Composer's levity would expire, and Neku would have to produce an answer. He watched the floating strips of nori with half-lidded eyes, unaware of the people around him. Life seemed something so far away now. As soon as he exited the restaurant he would be invisible to everyone outside. He swore and turned up the volume on his MP3 player, attempting to drown out the world. Even though he had touched the RG twice since being in the Game, he couldn't shake his unease relating to his corpse and where it was. Joshua was tight-lipped and Neku was totally uninformed, potentially leading to a hazardous predicament… a volatile mixture. As much as he tried dismissing his paranoia as overanalyzing, he feared, deep down, he was right in assuming the worst.

On a whim, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the first entry: Hanekoma. He put the phone up to his ear.

"Hello," came the husky voice.

"Mr. H, it's me, Neku."

A laugh, then, "Hey kid! What prompted the call? Did you and Josh have a fight?"

He silently opened and closed his mouth, when he hastily disconnected. What was he thinking? Hanekoma was Joshua's confidant and collaborator; he'd be the last person to help Neku. And even if he did, what would it entail: the pair of them rebuking the Composer in hopes of acquiring an answer pertaining to Neku's carcass? He knew, in reality, the most Sanae would probably do was be a shoulder on which Neku could cry.

He heard the beeping of a text and looked at the phone screen:

_Hanekoma said you called from Ramen Don. Everything okay hun?_

"Fuck off," he growled at the lit display. Digging in his pockets, he fished out a wad of money, slapped it on the table and left his barely-touched bowl behind.

He stepped outside to the busy Dogenzaka Street, again unseen by the living. And it was this reason that he yelped when someone put their hands over his eyes. "Guess who?" rang the familiar voice.

"Damn it!" He slapped away Joshua's hands and wretched back. "What, are you turning into a stalker now?"

"Already am that, dear," he tittered. "How's your quest going? Have you found your golden fleece?"

He glared at him murderously before stomping away.

"Wait, come back!" He trotted after him until he caught up, matching Neku's angry strides. "You're mad?"

"What do you think? You came to Ramen Don after Hanekoma told you I called!" His spinning brain caught up to his tongue, armed with a conspicuous observation. "Hold on, how'd he know I was there?"

He twirled a lock of his French grey hair. "Let's call it 'Angel Tracking'," he laughed. "No seriously, it's that tracking app he programmed on my phone to pinpoint Megumi. If it bothers you I'll tell him not to relay your location to me."

Neku remembered the wild goose chase from the second week. "Yeah, what was that all about? Why'd you have him track down Shades' place? You forgot where it was or something?"

"Gracious, no! We were putting on a charade so as to not arouse your suspicion about me. The hunt kept you and me from obsessing over missions though, eh?"

"It was a waste of time!" he fumed. "You should've come clean and told me the truth about you then!"

Joshua tittered. "You're so cute when you're mad – it gets your face and lips all red. C'mere, let me kiss you." And he lunged forward straight at Neku's face without further warning.

Neku evaded him on instinct when he crossed the personal space threshold from 'playful joking' to 'intent'. He roughly shoved him back. "Shit, you were serious? I thought you were kidding!"

His pride was indisputably hurt, and he smoothed his shirt brusquely. "I don't joke about things like that."

He flushed further. "Freak."

The other frowned and slipped his hands in his pockets. "Teasing aside, have you given thought about the Conductor role?"

He snorted. "Yeah I have… I'm not doing it."

Off in the distance the sound of thunder rumbled in the sky. "I think you should reconsider –"

"There's nothing to reconsider, period! I met you, I fixed Shibuya, and now we go our separate ways. End of story."

A smile, one so familiarly cold to Neku, curled Joshua's lips. "It's that easy then?"

"Yeah –"

"Wrong. After all, you're dead aren't you? And who has the ability to resurrect you? Me." The shadows around them diminished as the clouds enveloped the sun's bright rays, leaving the area in a flat, filtered light. "Don't treat me like an expendable peer; your existence is in my hands."

"You fucking killed me, psycho!" He stopped short in the intersection and cars drove through he and Joshua harmlessly. "You think I owe you gratitude? That I should adulate you like you're on a pedestal?" He ran his hand through his hair in aggravation. "I'm not one of your Reapers or Angels – I can't stand you!"

Joshua's sardonic grin grew as he listened to Neku's ragged panting. "That's what I love about you: your ingenuous nature. You don't lionize me. You speak to me on equal terms, and that rarely happens for me as Composer."

"I thought you told me not to treat you like an expendable peer."

He tilted his head playfully. "But you don't treat _them_ as equals, do you? You see them as inferior organisms."

Neku chuckled a bit at the description. "Whatever. So you were just warning me?"

He coyly flicked a bang from his forehead. "Guilty as charged."

He rolled his eyes and stamped away.

"Neku!" Joshua yelled in exasperation, trailing him like an obedient dog. "Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you."

"Why not?" he yelled over his shoulder above the sound of the crosswalk audio signal. "The conversation's over! I don't care if you merit respect, your Composer-ness!"" He blinked as a drop of rain hit his eye.

"The conversation never properly started," he said evenly, dangerously. Despite his soft tone, Neku heard him quite well. "You still face the quandary of death."

"And I played my part in your puppet show with the Reaper's Game. The least you can do is resurrect me."

Joshua stopped in his tracks, and it took Neku a few moments to realize it before turning round. "You don't get it, do you?" he whispered darkly. "I owe you nothing. What I offer you now is a resulting gesture of my heart."

He scoffed. "You don't have a heart." A drop of rain hit his cheek before another splashed against his hand.

Instead of expressing resentment, he smiled; it was a smile that made Neku fearful. "Really now? Funny, because I've done so many things that speak otherwise." Another errant drop hit Neku's forehead. "I chaperoned you through the second week, had Sanae serve as your guardian, even spared this cesspit of a city –"

"After you so graciously shot me in the face!"

His leer only widened. "You need me, Sakuraba Neku. It is not I who owes a debt to you; it is YOU who owes me. I invested myself far too deep in this not to reap the benefits. The cost of the Composer's assistance is steep, and the arrears you incurred are high."

He felt his temperance deteriorate as he processed each word. "Are you… fucking kidding me? I never asked for your help or to be in the Game! You're nuts!" Thunder crashed overhead, making the redhead flinch; people looked up at the blackened sky.

"Ah, but the fact of the matter is you _were_ part of the Game, and I _did_ help you." The clouds split and a torrent of rain hammered the street, sending citizens scattering for shelter like marbles on a pane of smooth glass.

Neku stood his ground and glared at the other. "Your doing, I presume?" he indicated the monsoon.

"I propose you think a little more on your current state of affairs. Your choice must be resultant of a clear mind." He turned on his heel and vanished into the misty sheets of water bombarding the city.

Neku stood still, drenched, his bangs heavy with water. "Damn it!" he screamed, but no one heard him. He dropped to his knees and slammed his fist upon the road, and the tears flowed uninhibited. "I hate you," he said. He peered up at the point where Joshua had vanished moments prior, his hot tears intermingling with the frigid rain on his face. "I hate you! I hope you rot!" he shrieked over the earsplitting thunder.

xxxxxxxxxx

Neku sought protection from the storm of Joshua's wrath shortly the altercation. He slipped unnoticed into a shop unmarked with a Modulator Decal. People seeking shelter complained that the news hadn't mentioned anything about a tempest that day; some called it a freak occurrence, others joked it was poor forecasting. Neku, though, knew the reason and he quietly waited out Joshua's tantrum.

The rain stopped abruptly after three hours of inexorable persistence, and the abrupt finish of the torrent baffled observers. "Finally," Neku grumbled, marching out into the soggy air. The storm's range – he discovered while eavesdropping on the shop owner's radio – covered all of Japan, extending as far as Hokkaido and Okinawa. "Talk about a bitch-fest," he mumbled as he slogged along the drenched road. "Is it safe to have someone that unstable in charge?"

He realized only then that he hadn't a clue where to go. Dusk was approaching, and the temperature dropped acutely in the soaked atmosphere. He shivered and ran his hands up his arms to keep the goose pimples at bay. "Should I find another hotel?" Yet before he could ponder the question, a solemn contemplation flitted through his mind. Tentatively, he took a left at the next intersection, his stomach knotting tightly.

Within ten minutes he reached a small two-story nestled between a row of near-identical houses. He felt every bump in the road, every diminutive crack, as he neared the house, his eyes afraid to leave it. Approaching the yard, he slowed considerably when he read the plaque of "Sakuraba" on the postbox. Although he'd been absent a little over three weeks, the place seemed so foreign to him, like an old friend who'd been weathered by the hardships of years. Water dripped off the leaves of potted plants resting on the window sill, their ceramic pots gleaming faintly in the overcast dusk glow like colored pearls.

The lights were off in the house, signifying no one was present. His heart pounded in his throat as he walked to the door. "This is stupid," he mumbled; still, he felt he was on a mission, a crazed fixation powered by longing. Reaching the entrance, he successfully knocked over a diminutive glass statue on the porch that concealed a key underneath. He succeeded in grabbing the key after a few fumbled attempts and unlocked the door.

The place inside was as quiet as a tomb. The air was heavy and lingered with the weight of mourning. House plants stood withered, their soil parched. Neku listened for any indication of someone else in the building, but aside from the standard creaks present in a house, nothing met his ears.

He blinked away his welling tears. How could something as simplistic as his house stir up such powerful yearning? Since having his life snatched from him he cherished his home; its sight, its smell, its sound, its feel. He hadn't really seen its beauty, not while rushing in and out daily to keep up with the hectic pace of 21st century life. Even the ceiling's hairline crack that had formerly irked him looked like a thing of understated exquisiteness... a substantiation that made the house so much more real to him.

He smelled the aroma of flowers wafting from the living room. Silently, he peered into the dark space, knowing what he would find.

A shelf that had once held his mother's collection of porcelain figurines now exhibited a kamidana altar for Neku. He had to chuckle; his family had never been religious, but he supposed they were humble since death had infiltrated home. Chrysanthemums and incense flanked a picture of him. His deportment in the photo showed his typical smugness of perceived invincibility so prevalent in his life before. An ihai tablet displayed his name next to the photo. Other objects lay on the shelf, obscured in the dark. He forwent examining the items, as a noxious cloud of apathy settled over him like thick tar.

He treaded wearily down the hall and up the stairs. He hated the absence of noise as he passed over the floorboards that normally creaked under the weight of the living. It merely reminded him of his death and how he didn't belong in the house – in that world – any longer.

He arrived at his room and turned the doorknob. After the door creaked open he remained in the hall, struggling with himself to pass the threshold. His room had been one of his refuges from the absurdity of life; to return now as a ghost was a mockery, an outright lie that everything was as ordinary as before, and he knew such an action would sully its sanctuary-like quality.

In spite of his inner struggles, he entered. Nothing had been touched; the bed sheets were still rumpled and his attempts at replicating CAT's art style littered his desk, the rejected pieces of crumpled paper still in the trash bin. He noted a new candle next to his bed on the nightstand, its white wick curling like an ivy tendril; he recalled reading somewhere that placing a candle next to a deceased person's bed was customary. Yeah, his parents were following all the protocols, for he'd read the procedures of funerals on several occasions. Little had he known his morbid curiosity would be sated at such an early age.

He saw his journal, still opened on the page he'd promised to complete upon returning home from a day of searching Shibuya for CAT art. He had trusted he'd have full inspiration to continue his notes afterwards and had decided to take a break; he'd told his parents he would return in a few hours.

Seeing the page demolished his remaining cordons that held back his sorrow, and he crumpled to his knees, weeping tired, heaving sobs. The journal, unlike everything else in the house that represented a tangible thing, represented an action. It wasn't like a window he had looked through before that bloody day, or a chair he sat on while writing; the book contained his uncompleted doings like a snapshot, asserting that he'd once been alive with intentions of finishing the task at a later time. God, the living didn't know how precious a thing they had. He shuddered with the throes, his crying heard by none. "I don't want to be dead. I still have to live!" His words sounded harshly clear in his ears that were stuffed from crying. He glanced up with blurry eyes at the series of photos highlighting CAT's Udagawa tag mural, pinned to his wall in a panoramic style; although he now associated the mural with his death, he still felt the fire of passion when he thought of it or any of CAT's works. Whether the emotion arose from the command codes sited within the images or the bold colors and angles, he knew, deep down, that he could only truly appreciate them in life, for they were intended for the living.

Rising to his feet, he dried his eyes on his hand, realizing he'd never cried so much. Taking a final look around, he exited his room, descended the stairs and left the house. "I'll come back soon," he said, looking back over his shoulder at the structure.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Night fell, and Shibuya came to life like a breathing entity. The city shimmered in an electric frenzy of neon, LED and halogen. Music pulsed from nightclubs, people talked a little louder and were more animated, their faces painted unnatural colors under the spectrum of lights.

Neku meandered against the flow of people in a preoccupied trance. He'd hit the biggest impasse of his life, saddled with the prospect of returning to his corpse of unknown location, or becoming Joshua's possession. He definitely knew he couldn't handle the latter, but alternatively the idea of going back to his body scared him. He was like a small animal, facing a snare trap that contained a luscious piece of food; he could easily take the bait, but there was a chance of capture. Moreover, he hated Joshua's saintly patience, as it only fortified the fact that Neku's choice could not be rushed.

He deliberated going to WildKat Café to get soup to warm his insides, but ultimately decided otherwise. He needed time away from everyone associated with the Game; seeing Mr. Hanekoma, and possibly Joshua, was the last thing he needed.

He grabbed a bite at Sunshine Burger. Carrying his meal in a white paper bag, he walked over to Hachiko and sat on the ground. He found imself gravitating to the area around the statue, antsy to see any ex-partner other than Joshua. He chewed his burger distantly, watching crowds walk by and tourists snap photos of every site that met their eyes. At first, he failed to give notice to the multitude; however, the voices encroached upon his meditations, and he soon shifted his concentration to his surroundings. He saw a pattern; an ebb and flow that functioned like blood of the metropolis. Halting and walking at crosswalks, converging at clubs and restaurants, laughing, yelling, singing. It all fluxed like a unified mass, each inhabitant playing his or her part in a production of which they had no knowledge. "Joshua's wrong," he grumbled, tossing his trash on the ground. "People do have importance. I mean…" he observed a group of high school girls surprise another with birthday cheers and offerings of presents, "… why would he destroy this place?" He deduced that the Composer – like his own earlier self – merely saw the city from a single angle, never having experienced it from a different side. "But he made Shibuya – he knows everything about it," he corrected himself. Perhaps he'd grown tired of its predictability? Neku bit his lip. Did Joshua rule only Shibuya? Did his reign span further than that area of Tokyo? If that was the case, what about other cities… was he contemplating obliterating other metropolises? The teen didn't know, and he had a hunch that even if he queried, Joshua wouldn't tell.

He dragged both hands back through his hair. Even after two days since making the bet with the Composer he was still lost in the dark. "All right, be rational about this," he deliberated. "If I had to make a split second choice, what would it be?"

Without effort, the option that seemed most feasible was being Joshua's colleague.

He experienced anger with himself, when his gaze fogged slightly. "But why not?" he asked aloud. "I know the expectations: I'll help Joshua run the city and be his… partner." He cringed at the concluding word. He then thought of the paradox figuratively surrounding his body like thick fog. Why was he willing to risk going back to the RG than simply becoming Conductor? "Is he right? Do I hate him that much I'll risk anything to stay away?" As wearisome as the blonde was, he never did anything so horrible to Neku. Yes, he shot him, but he had assisted him considerably during the Game. Additionally, he promised his return to the RG. "Is that his idea of proper recompense, though? Send me back and not tell me about my body?" Again, he felt ill when he considered the RG, and he examined why being Conductor was so unattractive to him. His imparting to Joshua about his fears of meeting the same end as Megumi had been a lie. "I… I don't want to see him," he concluded, unaware of squeezing his thumbs in clenched fists. Already he endured the taunts with razor-thin forbearance; he didn't think he could stand the Composer touching his flesh with that damned lascivious expression he so frequently wore. More than anything, Neku knew his qualms sprang from feeling exposed; Joshua had an uncanny insight of his mind and psyche, and it scared Neku to think that he'd put himself in a vulnerable spot if he became the other's lover. Each time he thought he had bolstered enough confidence for one answer or the other concerning his fate, something popped his courage like a balloon, and he found himself no better off than before.

He eventually took refuge in a hotel, but sleep was difficult to obtain. He found himself gazing at the ceiling for long stretches before blinking, and not for the first time his jaw ached from unwittingly grinding his teeth. "Flip a coin, ask a Ouija board, _anything_," he argued aloud with himself. The choice shouldn't have been so grueling to make: either return to the RG or be Conductor.

He rolled over to his shoulder. "Fuck it all," he grumbled before shutting his eyes and falling asleep to the blaring music in his headphones.

xxxxxxxxxx


	3. Monday

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He awoke with a kink in his neck and a throbbing ache in his head. He wanted to sleep longer so as not to face anything; nonetheless, he understood he had to arrive at a consensus.

He glanced at his phone on the table as though awaiting its ringing or a text. The cell represented a dark harbinger, whereas in life it was exclusively a tool of communication. Hesitantly, he picked it up and highlighted Joshua's message from the previous day. He hit _reply;_ the note was replaced with a blank screen. He had prepared himself to do this since before the sun had risen; he'd think about it, doze off and stir some time later with the all-consuming thought numerous times. His thumb lingered over the keys before he typed out his message.

_Hey. _

He sent it.

Within half a minute he got a reply: _Hey to you, Neku. 3 What's going on?_

He looked at the heart symbol with a blank expression. _I've made up my mind, _he answered.

Nothing. Then: _Come to my throne room. You can tell me here._

His eye twitched. _Why can't I tell you now? I'm miles from there._

_Just do it. Time limit is five minutes or face Erasure. J/K! See you when you get here. Xoxo_

He squeezed his eyes tight as he slipped the phone back into his pocket. "Yeah, real funny, Joshua." He left the room and went outside; it was balmy and clear, and air was fresh from the breeze pushing the pollution away from the city. "Oh yeah, he's definitely in a good mood now," Neku inferred from the glorious sights, listening to birds warbling high in the trees. He suddenly felt a burdensome pressure weighing on him.

While walking to the Shibuya Station he couldn't help but feel he was headed towards his proverbial sacrifice. Everyone around him, all the inhabitants of the city… they didn't see him and couldn't care less even if they did. He wondered if, undeniably, he'd been the best proxy hand-selected by Joshua out of all the citizens… or if Joshua had been lusting after him, pure and simple.

He reached the Shibuya Station underpass near the West Bus Terminal; before him lay the entrance to the culvert where the Shibuya River left the city in an odious, yawning maw. Beyond were the twisting corridors to the Room of Reckoning: Joshua's throne room. Throwing his leg over the broken seal that had once prevented Players and Reapers from entering, he stepped inside.

At once, cold, dank air wrapped itself around his body like a snake. The overwhelming reek of mildew and other unidentified scents prompted him to breathe through his mouth. With each step from the entrance the sunlight dimmed; Neku pulled out his ever-charged UG phone and held it open to illuminate the path before him. Rats skittered away from the uninvited glow, the scratching of their claws fading under the babbling sound of water.

Within five minutes of plodding through the dark all light had vanished, save the soft blue glow of the phone screen. He mentally retraced his steps from the one time he came to this forsaken place with Beat in attempts to find the Composer. The path forked more times than he remembered, and he found himself backtracking. Once his foot slipped into the stagnant river, which was nothing more than a concrete-embanked culvert and drain; he cringed when he felt the bacteria-rich soup saturate his sock. In mounting frustration he tried texting Joshua for assistance, but the thick concrete interfered with his signal. He knew he could simply call out to the blonde in case he got lost, but his pride kept him from sinking so low.

At last he reached the hall he recognized as Trail of the Bygone, the place where he, Shiki and Beat found Pi-Face's body. The air grew warmer and the reek of the sewer dissipated as he neared a large set of wooded double doors that separated him from Megumi's quarters, known as the Death God's Pad.

Beyond that was the Room of Reckoning.

He pushed open the doors and entered the bright, modern-style room that had a wall bar, glass floor and contemporary art. No one was inside, and some of the furniture was still smashed as a testament of his battle there days before. Neku realized if he accepted Joshua's offer of employment it would be his personal space from which he could carry out Conductor doings.

He went over to a foosball table, knowing precisely what he was seeking. He cleared his mind and scanned the space until he saw another set of doors materialize. Snapping out of his trance, he swung open the entrance and walked through.

His heart hammered a mad, illogical beat in his throat. At the far end of the hall stood the unassuming entrance to Joshua's throne room, and he knew the other was on the opposite side, ready to hear Neku's long-awaited answer. He found little solace glancing at the wall to his left splashed in the almost-fanatical mosaic consistent of CAT's work. Somehow, it looked less threatening in the daylight.

He arrived at the end of the hall. The simple set of doors deceptively held Shibuya's deepest secret therein; he wondered if anyone living had ever seen the entrance. Closing his eyes, posturing himself, he went inside.

The chamber was silent. He crept in, gazing up at the imposing trio of colonnades bordering the throne that reached into the dizzying heights and disappeared into smoky infinity. He walked to the center of the chamber, treading upon the intricate ancient symbols crisscrossing the floor. "I'm here," he called out to the dim air, his voice floating up to the heavens.

He registered illumination near the throne, followed by movement. Anticipating Joshua with his glowing phone screen, Neku looked over, but he hadn't expected what met his vision. It was the first time Neku saw Joshua in his uninhibited, holy form; his true form of Composer. Instead of a preppy blonde, before him stood a being of godly beauty; he was taller than any man, with pale glowing skin and silver locks swirling around his face as though underwater, spilling down to his shoulders. A pair of glass-like wings was folded delicately behind him, scintillating in the bleak light. The face looked like an angel's, with hollow washes of indigo where eyes should have been. A glow of electric energy cloaked him, piercing the chamber's darkness. The sight filled Neku with a deep sense of tranquility. He noted a heavy aroma of flowers and spice perfuming the air. "Is that you Joshua?"

"Indeed," he answered; his serene voice seemed to be the air itself, the life breath of Shibuya. "I expend a great deal of energy in this dimension maintaining the form you're used to seeing, but this is what I truly am."

For a moment Neku forgot why he had demanded Joshua's presence. He couldn't get enough of the sight of the Composer. He was, daresay, stunning.

His wings fluttered. "You've made a decision?"

The question steered Neku back to reality. "Y-yeah."

Joshua smiled benignly; no sarcasm was present. "And?"

He found it hard to speak his declaration. "I thought about it long and hard while in the city." He swallowed "I… I..."

He tilted his head, spilling the moon glow hair over his shoulder. "Go on." He took Neku's hand in his.

The sensation felt like a warm electric current enveloping every cell in his body, and he instantly was at ease.

Joshua said nothing; he squeezed Neku's hand in encouragement.

He clenched his free fist. "I can't do it. I want to return to the RG." The words burned his ears, for saying it aloud was excrutiating.

Joshua's radiant expression shattered, leaving only heartbreak on his serene face. His grip slackened. "You don't know what you're doing, Neku."

"You're right. But…" he looked into the hollow indigo crevasses, believing he saw pupils. "I don't belong here, either. I have stuff I need to do. All my hopes… my dreams… if I stay in the UG, I can't finish them." He managed a pitiable smile. "And… I trust you. I know you'd tell me if my body's condition was too terrible, right?" He forced a nervous laugh when the other said nothing. "'Trust your partner' – that's what you said."

If Neku hadn't been standing only a few feet from the god's face, he would have never believed what happened next: Joshua closed his eyes and limpid tears streamed down his cheeks. "Oh Neku," he cried in a thin voice.

Foreboding iced his veins from the uncharacteristic response. "Joshua?"

He wiped his eyes with a delicate hand, looking at the teen with not annoyance, but pity. "Foolish child." He bent down and kissed him on the forehead. It was gentle, replete with what felt like sorrow.

Neku felt himself trembling… from grief or from the Composer's gesture, he wasn't sure. Unthinkingly, he rested his hand on Joshua's tear-soaked cheek in a wordless assurance that all would be fine. And then, it happened:

Their lips met. But it wasn't a kiss of animalistic hunger… it was a chaste kiss of farewell. The seconds stretched ever onward; they remained there for an undetermined amount of time.

A voice spoke in Neku's clouded mind: _Strike while the iron's hot._ He broke contact, still painfully close to Joshua. "Where's my body?" he whispered against the flesh, trailing his fingers down the other's cheek. "Just tell me."

"I…" His lips impulsively sought Neku's.

Neku angled his face away slightly, needing to deny Joshua what he wanted until the teen obtained the information he required. His fingers clutched the flowing locks in a covert way to hamper Joshua's resuming of the kiss. "Tell me. Please."

A staggered gasp passed the others lips at Neku's deliberate touch. "Can't… I c-can't."

"C'mon."

He broke free from the redhead's grasp and his mouth connected with the Neku's once more in response.

Just then, Neku sensed an immediate change from the other; something vigorous dwelled in the returning kiss, and he panicked when Joshua began kneading his lips against his. The Composer was undeniably determined to cross the margin dividing companionable from carnal with Neku. _I have to stop – he's getting too aroused._ He pulled away, oddly pining for the other's warm lips on his again despite his necessitation to stop; Joshua's whole form quavered.

His plan to draw out an answer with a distraction failed, thereby having gained him nothing. "I'm ready to leave," Neku said softly, hoping he hadn't gone too far with Joshua.

The haze on his eyes lifted marginally. "Wait… is that all?"

Neku said nothing.

"Don't tell me you were trying to force me to answer by seduction," he bristled as Neku's stratagem became apparent.

"No… it was just a goodbye kiss." _Keep steady – don't let him see through my plan,_ he thought.

The words sunk bitterly into the Composer's mind, and renewed sorrow pushed back any anger brewing; he believed Neku's action inferred he'd changed his mind. "Please reconsider…."

"I can't. This is something I need to do." He looked away to hide his leaking tears. "I'm going to start my life over, enjoy each moment –"

"Don't leave me!" He tightly clasped Neku's hands in his and fell to his knees. "I'm not above imploring. Please stay…" he looked up with wretched beseeching etched deeply in his face. "…For me. I'll grant whatever you desire. Anything! Just don't leave!"

Neku didn't know how to react; never before had someone implored him, let alone the god of Shibuya. For each part of him that wanted to remain, another two coaxed him to leave. "I desire life. That's all I want."

"You know what I mean," he whispered in a reedy plea.

He stared at Joshua, unable to see what drove his desperateness. Why was he so… frantic? Didn't his pride inhibit that? During the Game and even hours before he hadn't been this way; now that Neku's imminent departure was nigh, he was reduced to a quivering mass. Yet… why? "Joshua? What's going on?" he asked almost instinctively, sensing something within the other.

Drying his eyes, he stolidly stood full height, ignoring the redhead's query. "Very well, Sakuraba Neku." Something detached clipped his voice, and biting cold wrapped itself around the chamber. "I have heard and value your choice."

Neku was confused, at once on edge. Joshua usually uttered his surname when he was incensed. Should he not have kissed him? It was something impulsive he felt was right. "Are you mad I kissed you?"

"On the contrary – I enjoyed it immensely, especially had it been under different circumstances. What vexes me is the fact you still intend to leave." He brushed past him; Neku noticed the pleasant warmth of his aura and skin had turned frigid like an ice cube. "I cannot fathom you, Neku!" He rounded on him, his livid eyes sparking. "You survive not one, but three weeks of the Game – it takes a remarkable person to do that. You," he shook his head in bafflement, "you tolerated me for one week, even though you suspected I was your murderer. You helped me defeat Shibuya's Conductor. You, a mere human doing that?" His gaze dropped, as though the words he sought would emerge through the cracks of the ancient floor. "You refuse me and my offer of new Conductor, and then… you kiss me? Caress my hair and cheek?"

His limbs shook in fear – everything was going horribly wrong. "I was just touching your face because it was close –"

"LIAR!" he roared. His placid aura twisted and convoluted into jagged voltage. "Your exploit was driven by one of two reasons: it was an attempt to beguile me, or you were obeying your carnal instincts." He refolded his wings, glaring down his nose at Neku. "You've nerve to toy with the Composer, whichever reason is to blame. I ought to take you right here for enticing me like that." His expression was that of a man who was about to shatter, his shoulders quaking. "Tell me: it all means nothing to you? I mean nothing to you?"

Neku didn't know how to extract an answer that didn't sound indifferent or ignorant. Was he supposed to feel something? He had to have; otherwise he wouldn't have resorted to kissing Joshua, even if it was platonic in his mind. He couldn't get his head around the Composer's sudden enragement. "I –"

"Speak!"

"I don't know." Fuck it, that was stupid.

His features contorted in rage. He bore down on Neku, covering the distance quickly. He grabbed the teen's jaw in one hand and crashed his lips into his. The kiss, if it could be classified as such, was forceful, laced with anger. Neku tried pulling back but the sheer strength of the Composer's grip on his face was overwhelming.

He then glanced at the face before him and what he saw drew his attention away from the kiss: tears streamed down the Composer's cheeks, even though his mouth was still planted on Neku's. His great body shuddered, and he slumped to the floor, now at eye level with the other. He pulled his lips away and wept, resting his head on Neku's shoulder. "I tried… so hard to win you over. You ignited something in me and now I can't quash it!". He curled his knees to his chest and leaned his shoulder against Neku. "I'm sorry I killed you, I am. I would've repented endlessly for it… simply if you had had me. I was sincere when I offered you the position of Conductor." He looked into Neku's eyes, something dark flickering where pupils were absent. "Do you know what happened just then when I kissed you? Nothing. Absolutely nothing." The furious indigo orbs glossed with tears. "You broke my heart… I hate you for that!" he hissed.

"Hey, how was I supposed to answer?" he retorted, his eyes swimming. "You stole away everything I had, and then propose to substitute it with things totally unfamiliar to me! The job of Conductor? Being your toy… I can't do those!"

"Then learn!"

"No Joshua, I won't!" He stepped back, leaving the Composer sitting by himself. "You already took it upon yourself to kill me then give me an ultimatum!" He rubbed his hand up his arm, warding off the freezing air burning his skin. "I don't know where my body is, and knowing you it's probably a trap. So what's my alternative? Do a job I know nothing about and be your fuck buddy." He stared at the other, breathing heavily. "I'm tired of you thinking you rule me. Because you don't." No sooner had he spoken the words he regretted it.

Joshua ogled him as though he'd just noticed his presence, when he laughed; it was shrill and sent spikes of ice down Neku's spine. "What a supercilious infant you are. I do own you! I'm Composer – I rule everything! _EVERYTHING!_ You are something I created on a whim and can effortlessly destroy if I so please!" He rose to his feet sinuously and advanced like a stealthy predator, ready for the kill. "I only wanted to hear your avowal of remaining with me from your own lips; I didn't need your permission. I could have forced you, like when I bereft you of life without your say-so."

Neku nearly fumbled back in a full-out run, but his knees began shaking; he didn't possess the coordination to step back any further. Joshua's body bumped against his.

"I can have anyone I want, but I chose you explicitly." He stroked his finger up Neku's cheek; Neku thought he'd vomit from the marrow-freezing contact. "However, I now know your true feelings and how you perceive me." His mouth stretched into a smile that had been pushed over the edge. "How grand you humans think of yourselves, when you are nothing but insignificant particles."

"J-Joshua?" he whispered hoarsely, fearful of the being's spiteful demeanor.

"Call me love struck or crazy; I was willing to devote my existence to you."

Neku stopped short upon processing the obtrusive adjective. "What are you saying?" His mind and limbs went numb, followed by his face. "You love me?"

Joshua's finger paused on Neku's face, the seconds passing excruciatingly slow. "How dare you ask such a stupid question? I've a good mind to Erase you!" His finger ghosted past Neku's chest as he observed with maliciousness.

Neku screamed from a searing agony erupting in his torso that felt like electricity lashing his insides. "Stop it! Do you love me?" he screeched over the pain that turned everything blinding white.

Joshua withdrew his finger and Neku fell against him. "What does it matter?" he muttered, his voice tinged with something gentler. "I wanted to protect you. I cleared your path recurrently when I was your Game partner; I know I was breaking the rules, but I…". His tone cracked under untold anguish, and he pushed away stray strands of hair from Neku's forehead. "… I enjoyed seeing you happy. Smiling. So, so much."

The confiding words ground into Neku like constricting air. The ambiguous answers weren't sufficient, and for the third time he entreated. "But do you love me?" His own tone and new tears shocked him.

His eyes focused on the present harshly. "The feelings I had prior are no more." He brushed his nose lightly against Neku's and whispered, "You want to revisit the RG so badly? Very well." He stepped back, smiling cruelly at the redhead. "I grant you your return to that world. Enjoy your reality." He snapped his fingers.

And for the final time, Neku found himself in settings that had not changed. Pitch black chamber, cold curving walls, dust….

Renewed drive coursed through him. If this was his reality, he had to break out of the dark prison. He'd renounced the UG and Joshua hated him. He backed up a few meters before running forward and slamming his full weight into the wall. He crumpled from the resulting stab in his shoulder that had made contact with the wall. Again he tried, with the same dismal outcome.

His mind digressed to Joshua's confession, and he forgot his situation at present. Was it possible the god had seen something more in Neku than just a warm body that could relieve his sexual urges? He couldn't see how it was probable, as Joshua unmistakably loved only himself. He wasn't capable of loving another, let alone a human.

And yet…

As much as Neku tried debunking the likelihood of Joshua's sentiment, he couldn't help but experience second thoughts. Had he really broken his heart? "No, he's just messing with me," he rationalized to himself. "Anyway, who could ever love me? Not someone of his caliber at least…."

His eyes widened in the blackness when he heard the distant mumbling of voices. With a cry of disbelief, he stumbled to his feet. "Hello?"

The voices wavered in and out of detection.

"Hey!" Again, he threw himself against the wall. "Can you hear me? I'm in here!" He rammed it again; that time he felt a shudder following impact. Barking a laugh, he retracted a few meters more and flew to the metal. The bone-jarring collision produced another quake in his surroundings. He slammed into it once more. "Don't leave! I think I can get out of here!"

Again, a crash. He was certain he cracked a rib that time.

"Come on, you can do it," he bolstered himself. He retreated back further than before, and his back bumped into the opposite metal wall. Belting out a triumphant howl, he charged and crashed into the wall.

He felt no shudder; instead his world was turned upside-down as gravity failed him. He knew he was falling, and he realized, too, the walls and dust were also turned topsy-turvy; in that second he understood that the entire chamber was plummeting at increasing velocity. The swirling dust filled his eyes and lungs, and he bounced off the metal surfaces.

At that moment the room crashed to a stop; blinding light poured in a large, round opening before him, and he spilled out with the contents. His eyes adjusted to the light that was diffused by the cloud resultant of the dust.

He tried sitting up, but couldn't – he couldn't sense his body at all. Panic flooded all reason from his mind. _I broke my neck?_ he thought in terror. No, as much as he had hit the sides, his back and neck had managed to stay protected. He tried straining his eyes downward to examine his body, but it lay just out of his vision range.

"What was that sound?" he heard a woman say. The voice… was that Mrs. Takaba, his mother's friend?

'_I'm here!' _he screamed.

"It came from in the living room."

He froze when he heard the new voice. _'Mom! Is that you?'_ but he knew, without doubt, it was her. He wanted to cry, but no tears wet his eyes. _'Please help me!'_ The dust settled, and he caught sight of his surroundings:

it was the living room of his house.

Numbness dulled his mind. What was going on? He heard his mother gasp, followed by rapid footsteps. She entered his field of vision, her bloodshot eyes wide and darting around him.

'_Why am I in the house? Why can't I move?'_ he asked. He felt he'd die from exhaustion.

Mrs. Sakuraba bent down, tears dripping from her puffy eyes. "My darling Neku." She reached towards him.

"No, wait Sakuraba-san!" It was Mr. Aishii, their neighbor, emerging from the other room. "That's an omen. You mustn't touch them!"

"He's my son!" she screeched, her shoulders quaking. "What am I supposed to do?" She sobbed hysterically into her hand.

Neku knew his heart hammered, even though he didn't feel it. _'Mom?'_ he asked tremulously.

She didn't answer. Neku heard more gasps and murmurs just behind him, but he couldn't turn his head to see the owners. "What happened?" he heard his father cry. Mr. Sakuraba rushed to his wife's side and consoled her.

"I don't know," she hiccupped. Despite Aishii's advisement, she ran her hands around him beyond his sight; was she brushing something? "Why did his urn fall? The ashes are everywhere!"

That single second seemed to last a century – no, millennia – for Neku. The framed photo of him adorned with a black ribbon in the upper corner, the white chrysanthemums and lit candles, the family's neighbors and friends….

He was at his wake. In his house.

Like a limb-breaking avalanche, it at long last impacted him so fiercely, so brutally that he felt his soul ripped to shreds. He wasn't buried, embalmed, or in a morgue, no… he was cremated. The metal walls of the urn, the dark space, the dust comprised of his burnt and pulverized bones, teeth, skin, nails, hair, tongue, eyeballs….

'_No! No! This isn't fair, Joshua!'_ he screamed; no one looked at him. Had he had the ability to move, he would have torn the flesh off his face in madness. He couldn't budge because he was nothing but ashes. In spite of this, Joshua had bestowed them life. Neku could navigate in the urn freely because his entire body had been contained therein; now he was scattered across the Sakuraba's fine Chinese rug. They couldn't hear him for he no longer had a tongue, larynx or lungs, and only his disembodied soul could hear his intended words. What he'd thought was his dead cell phone was no more than a phantom sensation of the items he carried with him before his death.

He had the facsimile items in the UG, simply because Joshua had sanctioned it in that limbo world.

What had Joshua gained from it? This twisted game that was nothing less than a nightmare?

Neku heard a knocking on the front door a few feet away, and Mrs. Sakuraba stumbled to answer it.

"You must be Neku's mother. I heard his wake was today?" asked a voice after she opened the entry.

He knew the voice. The little fucker.

She rubbed her forehead. "Oh, yes, yes this is his wake. Did you know him?"

"Yes, we were in the same grade. My name is Kiryu Yoshiya, but my mother and father call me 'Joshua'. He might have mentioned me to you."

She blinked. "I believe he did," she smiled feebly. "Please, come in."

Neku glared at him. _'You asshole, stay away from my parents!' _he screamed at the top of his lungs._ 'Are you going to tell them you shot me? HUH?'_

He removed his shoes, stepped inside and bowed to both her and Mr. Sakuraba. "I extend my deepest condolences to you both. He was a good friend of mine. We were all saddened when we heard about it at school." He handed them a card with the customary money offering.

'_I know you can hear me, you snot!' _he snarled.

Joshua saw the spilt ashes and touched his hand to his mouth. "Oh dear."

"We're so sorry, the urn fell," the mother dithered.

"It's advisable to have a Buddhist monk bless the ashes in case a dark presence knocked them over. Then his soul can be at full peace." He extracted a pen and piece of paper from his coat pocket and wrote something. "I know a monk who's my acquaintance. I'm sure he'll perform the ceremony by tomorrow if you contact him today. You can take the ashes to your family tomb afterwards."

'_Fuck you, murderer!' _

"Yes… yes, of course." The parents bowed in appreciation to him.

"May I pay my respects? I have an appointment in Shinjuku later but wanted to make some time for this."

"But… the ashes…."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Sakuraba, I'll stay clear of them."

She smiled and dipped her head.

He knelt before the photograph of Neku and touched his hands together in prayer; everyone left to give him privacy.

'_Feeling guilty, bastard?'_ Neku hissed.

Joshua, his hands still together, opened his eyes and looked at him with a coy grin. '_Guilt is a human trifle; I have no comprehension of it,'_ Neku heard him say telepathically.

Neku noticed the black suit he wore and recognized it as the one he'd purchased at Pegaso Altier the day before. _'I trust you didn't buy that with attending my wake in mind….'_

'_Of course I did._ _Remember_ _what I advised yesterday? I said, 'Don't give me a reason to keep it.' '_

The memory rushed back. _'You… meant the suit?'_

'_That's right. If you agreed to remain with me I would've returned it. Regrettably, you fell below my expectations. I figured you'd get sentimental, not use your brain and return to the RG. So, I took preemptive measures and got some nice clothing for the occasion.'_

'_If I had a body, I'd –'_

'_You'd what, kill me?'_ he tittered; his laugh was more annoying directly inside Neku's soul. _'You couldn't kill me even if you had a whole army of warriors.'_

He suddenly felt browbeaten, and his fighting spirit took flight from him. _'Why did you do this? First you kill me then you agree to return me to the RG when you knew my body was like this?'_ He closed his eyes. _'I trusted you.'_

'_The only person you can trust in life is yourself. You should know that by now. Oh, wait… you turned over a new leaf, didn't you?'_

'_I thought… you said you hated seeing me cry.'_

Joshua considered the statement and lowered his hands to his lap. '_I did at a time. But you apparently didn't care about me. I reciprocate intentions, good or bad.'_

'_What?'_

'_I gave you palpable advisements not to return, but what did you do? You defied me and my help. I allowed you not one, but a pair of two-way passes back to the RG; the setting of the urn horrified you, and yet you wanted to stay!'_ He shook his head in disbelief. _'Why? I expressly said you were dead; once something is dead, it's gone forever.'_

'_But you can resurrect things, right?'_

'_Do not insult me with such drivel. Of course I can! Look at you! I choose not to practice it generally because it goes against the natural orders of things. Why bring back people in perfect bodies when there are seven billion others already alive?'_

The reality sunk into him and resonated sharply. _'So, everyone who's passed the Game… they never got back their true lives?'_

'_I guess if you want to sum it up, then yes.'_

He felt like a rug had been pulled out from under him. _'Then why were the players lied to about resurrection? It doesn't matter if they exceeded or did crappy – they all met the same fate!'_

'_But it did matter how they performed, Neku. It entertained me to see them scramble in their life-or-death struggles. Plus, if they believed there was a light at the end of the tunnel, it gave them incentive to carry out their finest.'_

And Neku irrevocably comprehended that Joshua thought of no one but himself and saw others merely as expendable toys. _'You're not human.'_

'_Of course not! Thank goodness for that.'_

'_Shut up!'_ he screeched, fury, antipathy, rage directed at the other. _'Just shut the hell up!'_

A look of surprise betrayed Joshua's calm visage.

'_You're fucking sick! You kill off the people of your city, subject them to a pointless game with the promise of resurrection then put the souls of the better players into ruined bodies and leave the worst souls to wither –'_

'_No, the souls of the losers are recycled to become Noises.'_

Neku processed the proclamation and could only laugh. _'You make players fight ex-human souls? Wow, you sicken me.'_

Joshua narrowed his eyes coolly. _'The amount of people who participate in the Game in comparison to those who die daily is modest. Approximately 146,000 deaths occur around the world in a twenty-four hour span – that's a death every two seconds – yet only about half a dozen of them participate in a Game round that lasts a single week. So stop whining - the numbers aren't that severe.'_

He somehow voiced it _–_ the thing he'd been trying in vain to avoid hearing, acknowledging _–_ despite knowing the answer. _'What happened to Beat, Shiki and Rhyme?'_

'_Oh, I reunited their souls with their bodies as thanks for playing their part in my winning Game. Don't you worry your pretty head about that.'_

The gears began grinding in his head. _'But… weren't Beat and Rhyme hit by a car?'_

'_Yes. So?'_

'_So doesn't that… doesn't that mean their bodies were mangled?'_

Something twinkled in Joshua's eyes. _'It looks as though you're finally grasping why I'm reluctant to return players to the RG.'_

It hit him between the eyes as his deliverance to death had in the form of a bullet. _'Son of a bitch! You fucking lied to them!'_

Joshua's face was stone-cold. _'And how did I lie? I plainly said I'd return their souls to their corpses. I didn't promise mended bodies when they returned. But they have it worse than you, I suppose. Both the Daisukenojo siblings were embalmed and buried. Shiki was cremated and the ashes were scattered.' _He shrugged as though facing a petty inconvenience. _'Oh well, not my problem. I fulfilled my end of the bargain.'_

He could only figuratively shake his head. _'Why? They never did anything to you.'_

He rolled his eyes. _'I guess it's not sinking in, is it? I'll speak on an elementary level so you understand. You and your little gang thought you were all entitled to resurrection, so I acquiesced only to reunite soul and body, regardless of the cadaver's state. My reasoning behind it was punishment for their selfish petitions. Don't you see?_ _Things need to be born, and by the same token, things need to die. I hinted_ all of that _to you, but you still turned a blind eye. And why? You've seen death in the UG isn't all that different from life, and death in the Higher Plane far surpasses any life in the RG. It rivals anything here on Earth, without misery, worry or pain.'_ His eyebrows furrowed. _'You realize I've never conceded to a human soul entering the Higher Plane; you would've been the first.'_

Neku tried wrapping his head around what Joshua was telling him. _'Why… would you let me stay there, then?'_ but he conclusively knew the answer, already felt his eyes welling and the heavy compression on his heart.

'_Why do you want to know?'_

'_Just tell me!'_

He chewed the inside of his cheek, deeply contemplating. _'Are you truly that clueless? Or do you just want to hear me say it?'_ He giggled mellifluously; a lock of hair fell over his eye, yet anxiety flushed his face. _'Fine, I'll say it: I loved you. Happy?'_

Although Neku had readied himself for the revelation, it hadn't prepared him for the words. Actions and hints were one thing, blatant words were another. _'You're lying. You don't love me.' _His voice cracked in his ears; had he been standing his legs wouldn't have supported him. And he couldn't understand why he responded in such a pitiable manner… why he hurt so much inside.

'_You're right. I don't love you, but I did. And yes, I was willing to cast aside protocol and grant you access to the Higher Plane.'_

Neku felt like his soul was dying, being Erased like he'd done to so many Noises. He couldn't look away from the other's face, which looked clearer to him than ever before. _'No one loves me – I don't even love myself. Why would you, the Composer, love me? I'm nothing!'_

'_I see that now, but you were something to me.'_

His mind was careening out of control. _'Tell me! What was it?'_

Joshua blinked at the screamed demand. _'I can't answer that,'_ he replied, his eyes softer than they'd been since arriving at the house. _'It was everything about you, nothing particular.'_

Had his form been intact, he would have collapsed. He never knew, even though he'd been right there by Joshua for hours and days. In retrospect he saw it all, but nothing registered with him during the time that had passed by like leaves on the wind. He was privy to the shameless flirting, yes, but there was more than that. The protection Joshua had extended, his sacrifice to absorb Pi-Face's flare, his simple acknowledgement of Neku amongst the other players and humans who were mere insects to an omnipotent being as powerful as he. It all transcended Joshua just shielding his proxy to ensure winning. Had Joshua solely wanted a sexual conquest he could've taken anyone… and yet he pursued Neku. In combination with everything else he'd done for the redhead, Neku suspected it was the Composer's unique, albeit, sociopathic way of expressing an emotion deeper than pure lust.

He was, after all, just like Neku: leery of letting others in, which in turn impaired his social skills.

'_I… w-why didn't you tell me?'_ He felt lightheaded, like he was rapidly falling without hopes of ever landing. _'You could've said something!'_

'_Why? So you could reject me that much sooner?'_ He shook his head. _'I know you all too well, Neku. It was bad enough to be subjected to such a foreign sensation; it would have crushed me had you refused me straight to my face. Believe me, it took vast courage to admit I liked you back in the Room of Reckoning.'_

Gathering his thoughts proved taxing while the declaration clouded his mind. _'But I did reject you….'_

'_Yes, but you didn't say it after I asked you. You shot me down before I said anything!'_ he smiled, shattering behind his eyes.

His mind was a sorry, crippled shell of its former self. He couldn't cry, but not because he lacked a body; he felt numbed to everything. _'I'll… I'll do it.'_

'_Pardon?'_

'_I'll be Shibuya's Conductor. You win.'_

Joshua blinked then laughed audibly. _'Neku, we made a pact, remember? You used your last free pass back already.'_

He trembled, feeling his sanity slipping as his destiny unfurled before him. _'What… are you saying?'_ he whispered.

He sighed. _'Are you stupid again? Oh right, you don't have a brain anymore.'_ He lit an incense and placed it in the appropriate burner in front of the photograph. '_This is it, dear. This is your existence. Your forever.'_

He just stared at him. _'You're lying.'_

'_I assure you, I don't fib. However, I do cut my losses, as that's my creed.' _

He grasped at any answer. _'Wait, I think I do love you. I wasn't sure at first but I am now!'_

'_Oh no, no! I see through your mockery clear as day!' _He leaned down close and voiced out loud, "Don't you _ever_ lie about loving me. If you play that card again I'll make you rue the day you met me!" He stood and brushed off his knees. "You would've loved the Higher Plane, Neku. You were to be my everything, truly. I've never met a human who entranced me as you did." He turned around. "Alas, I don't appreciate people who ignore my friendly gestures."

Neku could only gawk at him. _'You're a lunatic. A goddamned lunatic!'_

He looked back over his shoulder at him and winked. "Mrs. Sakuraba!" he called out, "Thank you for letting me pray for Neku."

She rushed into the room, tightly clutching a tissue in her frail hands. "Oh no, that's all right. My husband and I welcome all of Neku's friends to pay their respects." She trembled and pressed her hand to her face.

"Please don't cry," he smiled sweetly. "Neku is in a happy world now."

She dabbed her eyes. "Yes… he would talk about life being a shallow existence," she said with a forced smile. "We had considered moving to the country when Neku was a child, but my husband's job made it impossible." Her smile seemed it would break like bone china at any moment, and she mindlessly squeezed the tissue in her fingers. "I told him he could take the train to work, but he insisted we were fine in Shibuya."

He let her talk, listening with his well-practiced smile. Humans were too sentimental for his tastes. "In a way, Neku may be right," he said, referring to her comment about Neku's observance of life's triviality. "After all, it was violence that did this to him." He shook his head theatrically. "Getting shot in Udagawa like that. It must have been horrible when you were informed."

'_Bastard… I hope you rot!'_ Neku screamed.

She brought her crumpled handkerchief to her mouth to stifle a sob. "We… we had reported Neku missing. He'd been gone for three days when we got the phone call." She quietly suppressed her forthcoming weeping. "He said he wanted to get some air! Why didn't he come back?" She asked not as rhetorical, but a heartrending plea. She grabbed his suit tightly. "Why?"

"Calm down, Mrs. Sakuraba," he said evenly, guiding her hands off his suit. "There's no logical answer why he died. These are appalling times."

Something in her eyes focused; she bowed in embarrassment repeatedly. "I'm so sorry; please forgive me, Joshua-kun."

He waved his hand. "No harm done. But Shibuya…" He looked out over the skyline of the city with dull eyes. "It's fractured beyond repair, and I only saw that today. That's why I'm going to do something about it." And he walked out the door.

'_Wait! Come back!'_ Neku started sobbing hysterically. _'Please, I'll be Conductor! I'll do anything! Please!'_

She blinked. "Oh, are you interested in law enforcement?"

He looked back and smiled. "Something like that." He gave a curt nod of his head and turned away.

As she watched the young man, something he had said dawned on her; at first it seemed marginal, but then it swelled like a deathly heaving sea. "Wait… we didn't tell anyone where Neku's body was found," she mumbled to her feet.

Joshua stopped in his tracks and peered back with a stunning smile, his eyes lit from within. "Oh, I realize that!" He tilted his head, ashen waves of hair tumbling down his face, "Why, is something the matter?"

She opened and closed her mouth incoherently, the color draining from her cheeks.

He clicked his tongue. "You should lie down. No doubt this ordeal is taking a toll on you." He giggled and resumed his departure.

'_PLEASE! I can't live like this! I beg you! JOSHUA!'_

But he ignored Neku and strolled down the sidewalk, humming to himself, leaving the mournful house, petrified mother and unheard screams of the cremated boy behind him like a passing fancy.

"Hey, aren't you going to give the kid another chance?" Hanekoma sat on one of the roofs, his white wings folded behind him; he watched the other reprovingly.

"No. He wasted his chances."

Hanekoma glided down and walked alongside him. "I still think that was a bit harsh, Josh."

"You know what? You aren't the Composer, are you Sanae?" He smiled brightly, the corners of his mouth at tearing limit. He then amiably patted Hanekoma's cheek. "Love you bunches!"

The other kept his hands in his pockets, looking off into the building-pierced horizon. "So… I'm afraid to ask but… what did you mean you're going to 'do something' about Shibuya?"

Although Joshua's smile remained lovingly on his face, Hanekoma could see him gritting his jaw. "I've no Conductor, no proxy and I was dumped by a human I stupidly harbored feelings for." He looked up at the taller man. "I really don't think Shibuya has a future, do you? It must be purified."

He scratched his scruffy hair. "Is that why you've been letting Noises back into Shibuya, even though your round with Megumi ended?"

"You know me too well. I suspected Neku would reject me, so I permitted the reintroduction of the Noises to start a new Game cycle. I was too coerced by Neku the first time to annihilate the city, but this follow-up round would assure my victory. However," he looked up at the wispy clouds dotting the atmosphere, "I don't intend to wait out this Game's conclusion, able players or not. I'm going to get it over with quick." He laughed sharply, his voice ringing through the sky. "Shibuya will be no more in six hours! Everyone thank Sakuraba Neku for this!"

Hanekoma looked over at Joshua and saw a lone tear sliding down his cheek; it caught the sunlight, radiant against his skin. Hanekoma marveled at the Composer's uncanny ability to sustain a neutral façade in spite of his obvious inner turmoil. And it was no wonder the blonde was so recuperative: countless times before he had obliterated populations he loved because they'd recessed into sorry examples of mankind, yet he, as the Composer, had to play the part of nonaligned third party, the astute judge of humanity's undertakings and sins. Hanekoma realized once Joshua set his mind on something, even if it necessitated abolishing an entire populous, nothing could dissuade him, for it took something tremendous to push him to that resolution. He suspected, in spite of Joshua's ostensibly resilient manner in which he conducted himself, he was screaming inside.

"I imagined..." Joshua said softly, "… what it would've been like had he stayed with me." His trembling chin failed to stem the flood of tears he'd kept bottled up till that point. He tangled his arms around Hanekoma and buried his face into his chest. "It wasn't supposed to be this way, Sanae!"

"I know, I know Boss." He rubbed his back with a gentle hand; this wasn't the first time he had to pacify Joshua's overwrought nerves.

"I did love him. I thought he'd reciprocate my feelings." His muffled voice sounded miserable, a far cry from his proud comportment. "Why didn't he feel the same about me?"

"People are just like that. It's nothing personal against you."

His shoulders trembled and he gripped the angel tighter. "It was, though. He said he hated me."

Hanekoma opened his mouth in reply but then thought better of it. He wanted to agree that perhaps Joshua had been a bit overzealous shooting Neku then acting so casual about it, yet that was potential suicide. "I think you're a great guy, Boss."

Joshua uncovered his ruddy face, which was deeply marred with spite. "Yeah, well I don't want you, so that doesn't give me much consolation." He stretched his arms high over his head, flexing his fingers as he gazed at his flawed metropolis. "It's like what I told Megumi: I want to wash my hands of Shibuya. I should've extinguished it years back."

He sighed and shrugged, knowing there was nothing left for him to say. "Oh well, guess it can't be helped. You'll lend me a hand moving some of the items out of the shop before you do it, right? That Swiss espresso maker cost me a fortune."

Joshua held onto Sanae's elbow, wiping his eyes with his free hand. "Of course!"

The sun was low in the sky, and the clouds began taking on peachy hues. It was said before the city of Shibuya melted away that night the sunset was the most gorgeous it had been in that area of Japan in three-hundred years. Once reason returned to the shaken world remaining, the only proof of Shibuya's existence was unearthed from the barren plane: a metal urn with the family name "Sakuraba" written on the bottom in kanji. It was a miracle, some said, that the object had withstood the apocalypse that had taken the city in a matter of seconds and reduced the area of Tokyo to a stretch of flat wasteland; the urn was quickly deemed a national treasure and displayed at a memorial for the lost city of Shibuya. Visitors would awe at it for years to come, weeping of the cataclysm, whispering their conjectures as to who Sakuraba was.

Yet, for as many people who passed by in remembrance, no one would hear the screams of the teenager contained within. Never would they know of his eternal damnation, nor would they learn how he was indirectly responsible for Shibuya's annihilation, as he had refused the one who reigned over it all.

The one who wanted nothing more than to be loved in return.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_When, lo, as they reached the mountain's side,_

_A wondrous portal opened wide,_

_As if a cavern was suddenly hallowed;_

_And the Piper advanced and the children followed,_

_And when all were in to the very last,_

_The door in the mountain-side shut fast._

_Did I say all? No, one was lame,_

_And could not dance the whole of the way;_

_And in after years, if you would blame_

_His sadness, he was used to say, -_

"_It's dull in my town since my playmates left!_

_I can't forget that I'm bereft_

_Of all the pleasant sights they see,_

_Which the Piper also promised me:_

_For he led us, he said, to a joyous land,_

_Joining the town and just at hand,_

_Where waters gushed, and fruit-trees grew,_

_And flowers put forth a fairer hue,_

_And everything was strange and new…_

…_And just as I became assured_

_My lame foot would be speedily cured,_

_The music stopped and I stood still,_

_And I found myself outside the Hill,_

_Left alone against my will,_

_To go now limping as before,_

_And never hear of that country more!"…_

…_The Mayor sent East, West, North, and South,_

_To offer the Piper, by word of mouth,_

_Wherever it was men's lot to find him,_

_Silver and gold to his heart's content,_

_If he'd only return the way he went…_

…_But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor,_

_And the Piper and dancers were gone for ever…_

Excerpt from The Pied Piper of Hamelin, by Robert Browning


End file.
